


Two Years and a Fortnight

by EarendilElwing



Series: Almost Confessions [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 86,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarendilElwing/pseuds/EarendilElwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia's been following the questionable guidelines of a book on relationships in order to win Chrom's heart. Unfortunately, the prince is not the one who is falling for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> References to classes work like this in my stories: A capitalized name (such as Assassin or Trickster) means that it is the character's current class status unless other grammar rules apply. A lowercase reference (such as thief or tactician) simply refers to the character's base classification.
> 
> Main pairing: Cordelia x Lon'qu
> 
> Fanart Master Post  
> *By Storm Studio:  
> [Did Not Know How Long They Were There](http://storm-studio.tumblr.com/post/99493088516/cordelia-did-not-know-how-long-they-were-there)  
> [Open Ears Open Heart Cover Art](http://sta.sh/0nuwjxan9cs)  
> [The Hero and the Damsel Cover Art](http://storm-studio.tumblr.com/image/115959616926)

Cordelia scanned the book shelves, absent-mindedly reading the titles but not finding anything particularly interesting.  She wasn’t an avid reader by any means, but when Robin, Sumia, and Miriel invited her to go to the bookstore with them, she agreed nonetheless.  She had no other duties, chores, or even training to complete for the rest of the day, so she thought it might be nice to spend some time with the other female Shepherds.  She wasn’t really in the mood to shop, but the company and the distraction was a welcome change of pace.

Predictably enough, Robin was analyzing the various tactical manuals in the reference section, but also continually allowed herself to be distracted by Sumia’s excited musings on which book series to start next.  Miriel was flitting back and forth among different sections, muttering about the “lamentable lack of nonfiction available in this particular establishment”.  The Pegasus Knight stuck close to them for a little while but eventually wandered off into other areas, searching for nothing, but just browsing to see if anything would catch her eye.

She found herself in the aptly named “How-To” section and at first, it occurred to her that she might find a useful book on fashioning spears and javelins.  She had gotten the idea a few days ago upon speaking with Robin, whom she’d only just recently been formally introduced.  But as she leaned over to examine the various titles with increased curiosity, something entirely different jumped out at her.  It was a small pink leather bound volume with its name inked in sprawling flowery calligraphy, Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight.  Cordelia stared at it for a bit, reading the words over and over again.  She straightened and glanced around self-consciously  to see if any of her companions were nearby.  Seeing no sign of them, she blushed lightly, gingerly pulled the book from its place, and began to glance through it.  From the little she saw at first glimpse, the advice seemed sound enough and easy to put into practice; in fact much of what was suggested was already in line with her own diligence and personality.   If she WERE to incorporate its procedures… could it be possible…?

She looked out through the nearby shop window as nonchalantly as possible, towards a group of men gathered in the town square just visible from her position.  Among them was a young man with dark blue hair and eyes, wearing clothes and armor befitting his princely station.  His charming smile nicely complimented his noble bearing, and more than a few passing maidens appraised him approvingly.  

Her heart fell a little at this, but swelled with hope again as she turned her attention back to the tome in her hands.

“Fascinating…”

“Eek!”  Cordelia just about leapt out of her own skin and her precious find clattered to the floor.  Before she could recover herself, a young woman in sweeping mage robes, an oversized floppy pointed hat, and glasses stiffly bent down and retrieved it for her, assessing it in turn.

“This book claims to offer its readers directives in order to attract a specifically desired mate.”  Miriel’s framed eyes met Cordelia’s inquiringly.  “Is it your intention to use the information in this manual to do so?”

She turned bright pink and shook her head vehemently.  “What?!  N-no, of course not!  Why would I?”

The Mage raised a single eyebrow doubtfully.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you not in the stage of life when males and females begin various courting customs for the purpose of marriage and procreation?”

Cordelia didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any warmer.  Surely she would spontaneously combust from embarrassment soon, especially at the mention of “procreation”.  “M-maybe.  But first of all, I’m a knight sworn to serve the realm.  That will always be my principal duty;  I don’t have time for such things.  And second, even if I was thinking about it, I… I hardly need a book to help me find a husband.”

Miriel looked confused.  “Books are an invaluable resource; there is no shame in consulting their wisdom in matters with which you are unfamiliar or unskilled.”

“Unskilled?  You’re saying you don’t think I COULD get a guy if wanted to without this?”

“That is not what I was implying…”

The redheaded rider stomped up to her and snatched the book from her hand.  “WHEN or even IF I decide to settle down, I certainly don’t need advice from this…”

The young scholar cleared her throat loudly to get her attention and nodded to the other store patrons, who had stopped shopping and were watching them interestedly.  Luckily, at least Robin and Sumia had already purchased their items and had exited the shop.

Cordelia quickly shoved the book in a random place back on the shelf and started to head for the door, but Miriel intercepted her.

“Please, permit me to clarify.  It was not my objective to suggest that you are in dire need of such a resource, though I don’t quite understand why you should be embarrassed even if that were the case.  You admitted mere moments ago that such pursuits are not part of your customary routine as a Shepherd.  Therefore, I believe it to be a perfectly logical assumption that military personnel such as ourselves would find this material useful.”

Cordelia felt skeptical, but she had to remind herself that Miriel probably meant no offense.  She was simply not aware of the impact of her general social unawareness.  If anything, she was just curious.

“In truth, the basis for my inquiry was to ascertain why _you_ in particular should feel compelled to seek guidance on the subject matter.  It is a generally held supposition that very few, if any, male would refuse you as a mate and consequently, you would be welcome to select whomever you prefer.”

She blinked a few times, trying in vain to wrap her head around what her companion was saying.  “I’m sorry?  I’m not quite sure I understand.”

Miriel sighed, displeased that she should have to explain herself.  “Objectively quantifying the internal attributes that most find admirable and the external traits that men find physically attractive have often vexed me.  However, I have often looked to you as a control in my hypotheses, as many of the male Shepherds have indicated that they hold you in the highest regard in terms of beauty and character.”

Once Cordelia worked through what she was saying, her face flushed at the implication.  “Wait a minute... how did you come to know this?  Did you ask the guys what they think of me specifically?  Or were you just generalizing?”

“My survey began with a broad spectrum of queries and examples, but when you emerged as a commonality, I altered my questions to specify you as the fundamental core.”

“Miriel!  How could you?!  Gods, this is so embarrassing!”  Cordelia covered her face in shame.

She frowned and adjusted her glasses.  “I fail to comprehend the reason for your ignominy.  As I’ve already stated, nearly every male I’ve spoken with proffered a distinctly positive assessment.  The only exceptions were Lon’qu and Chrom.”

Cordelia peaked through her fingers.  “Really?  Um... did either of them say _why_ they don’t like me?”  She didn’t actually know the Feroxian Myrmidon enough to value his opinion of her, but Chrom was another story.  She wasn’t narcissistic by any means, but she had always wondered if there was something about her that would deter the prince from showing any interest whatsoever.

“You misunderstand,” the magic specialist said.  “I could not include their judgement on the matter not because they differed from the majority, but rather because I have been unable to question them.  Lord Chrom is understandably predisposed most of the time.  As for Lon’qu... I do not know the reason, but he resolutely refuses to engage in any sort of interaction with females outside of battle.”  Her eyes narrowed the way they always did when she was thinking hard.  “It is a most intriguing phenomenon.  But rest assured, I intend to find the cause of this anomaly.”

“I, uh... I’m sure you will.”  She cleared her throat and fiddled with her armor uncomfortably.  “Well, if that’s all, then we should probably finish here and catch up to the others.”

“Agreed.”  Miriel pulled the book from the shelf again and held it out to her.  

Cordelia held up her hand and shook her head.  “That’s alright.  I think it’s best if I save my money for more important things like weapons and armor.”

“As you wish.  Rather a shame though.  I had hoped you would purchase it regardless of our previous miscommunication and endeavour to put its tactics into action.  I’m sure it would have been a most enlightening experiment.”

“Experiment?”

Miriel skimmed its pages, quickly absorbing more than the Pegasus Knight certainly would have in such a short span.  “Some of its proposals strike me as dubious, while others seem relatively conventional.  Since we have established that you are already a highly desirable woman, I wondered if or how this book would affect your appeal to the opposite sex.  Would its processes increase your potential, and if so, to what degree?  If there is a man who has been resistant to your unique charms, would such imprecise methodology invoke  a favorable response?”  She sighed, somewhat overdramatically.  “I have yet to broaden my studies in the area of male and female relationships.  It is unfortunate that I will be unable to capitalize on a prospective new field.”  The book was returned to its proper place.  Since she hadn’t found any other books she wished to buy, she started for the exit, mumbling to herself,  “Another time perhaps.  I do have a multitude of other ongoing projects I should attend to...”

Cordelia moved to follow, but hesitated with her hand on the door, bright eyes staring at the floor thoughtfully.  She looked up and around again, but saw none of the other Shepherds in the store and the rest of the customers were too busy with their own pursuits to pay her any mind.  

Her gaze fell on the pink spine of Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight.  She exhaled, shook her head and started to push open the heavy oak door.  The tinkling of the shop’s bell gave her a second pause.  With a soft groan of resignation, she turned around, grabbed the book, purchased it as quickly as possible (without meeting the peculiar stare of the shop owner), and hurried to catch up with the rest of the Shepherds.

 


	2. A Constant Presence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost every subsequent chapter will begin with the "advice" from Cordelia's imaginary book. I purposely tried to make it sound stupid but somewhat believable, as may be the case for many actual dating books. However, please do not take it as my opinion or for true advice. It is for the entertainment purposes of this story only.
> 
> I've also tried to follow the sequential story of the game without getting in too deep. Most of this story takes place in between the chapters of the game. It only includes little snippets or summaries of the main events.
> 
> In my own experiences with unrequited love and what I perceive to be the complexity of Cordelia's character, the romance portion of the story may feel a little disconnected and slow. But when you're in love with someone else, it takes quite a while to open up to new possibilities. Just wanted to give fair warning.

_**Chapter One: A Constant Presence** \- The first step to winning your stud’s heart is to make sure he actually knows you exist.  Find reasons to remain in close proximity  to the object of your affections.  In doing so, not only will he be sure to notice you, but he will also become accustomed to your presence.  Score some bonus points by being attentive and available to assist him in any way if the need arises._

Cordelia wasn’t sure whether to smile or roll her eyes after she concluded the first chapter.  The advice was fairly unsurprising; one couldn’t very well be noticed if one did not make the effort to be close at hand and available.  When she wasn’t tending to other duties, she always strived to find some excuse to be near Chrom.  The difficult part was finding legitimate opportunities to actually talk to him or do things specifically for him that he would notice.  Her kind and considerate nature compelled her to help everyone, and as a result he was unable to differentiate her normal tasks from those meant for him alone.

Perhaps on the battlefield, she could prove her devotion.  She was certainly more than willing to defend and even give her life for any of her comrades, but if he would witness her doing so for _his_ sake, maybe that would get his attention.  

Lucky for her, today’s battle formation could give her just the right chance.  She and Robin were positioned in the middle of several units, poised perfectly for them to break from each other and come to the aid of all the others.  Chrom and Gaius were off towards their front right flank, preparing to engage an axe-wielding Risen Fighter.  She had even been given specific orders to keep an eye on them since at least two Myrmidon Risen were spotted beyond a nearby ridge and the mobility of her pegasus, Catria, combined with her skill and lance would be the perfect backup if they should approach.

The Risen attacked, and everyone quickly engaged the enemy with utter ferocity.  Robin stayed at the forefront using an Elthunder Tome to keep any bowmen away from Cordelia, allowing her to perform impressive aerial acrobatics to take down adversaries on all sides with a full stock of short spears and an Iron Lance.  The Pegasus Knight was deeply focused, simultaneously watching each enemy she faced and Chrom, practically itching to rush to his side.

Several intense moments passed, during which the two men executed a remarkably smooth combo strike, felling the Fighter and earning them enough time and space to retreat.  Frederick and Sully on horseback charged forward to take their place, equipped to combat the rushing Myrmidons.  They had been ready sooner than expected, and thus she was not needed there.

“Cordelia!  We’ve got a couple of Mages headed our way.  Intel says they’re using Wind Tomes.  Fall back and take cover in those trees over there.”

She nodded, not wanting to leave her comrade but also trusting that if she hadn’t anticipated this, she was already formulating countermeasures.  “Very well.  Be careful, Robin,” she responded.  She tugged on Catria’s reins, who obediently flapped her wings in one powerful stroke to create further lift, and then spread them wide to catch an updraft of air and coasting backwards, high out of danger.  With a second pull, she commanded her mount to turn and fly towards a nearby patch of forestry, where Sumia and their unarmed healers, Lissa and Maribelle, were likewise ordered to wait.

From this height, she was able to see more of the battlefield but could not directly attack the Risen.  Her eyes scanned the region as she passed overhead, primed to relay any new information to their Tactician if necessary or drop down and re-engage.  

Somewhere off to her left, a surprised cry caught her attention.  She halted her pegasus and followed the sound.  

Five Risen: two Cavaliers, two Fighters, and a Bow Knight were surrounding a lone figure.  It was the Shepherds’ borrowed Feroxian Myrmidon, Lon’qu.  He had been assigned to remain at the rearguard as a shield for the healers along with Vaike, but the resident “Teach” had charged off in another direction without waiting for his partner.  The result left the swordsman vulnerable, and their surprisingly intelligent undead adversaries were quick to press their advantage.

Cordelia did not hesitate.  She readied a weapon, kicked her heels lightly into Catria’s sides, and they whirled downward.  As soon as she was within range, she hurled the short spear at one of the Fighters.  It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it did give Lon’qu some much needed breathing room.  He parried a wild swing from the wounded creature’s axe and stabbed it in the abdomen with his sword.  It shuddered with a final cry and then its body began to crumble away in a cloud of black and violet dust.

He quickly turned his attention to one of the charging Cavaliers.  He wasn’t quite ready for it so Cordelia dove right in, blocking what could have been a fatal blow from its lance with her own.  It was thrown off balance and Lon’qu immediately exploited the chance.  He ducked under the dueling lances, lunged low, and jumped high into the air, slashing downward when gravity kicked in and killing both the zombie rider and horse in a single blow.

The final three screamed in fury, but their wrath only decreased their already diminished capacity for rational thought.  Cordelia and Lon’qu silently used the precious seconds to take up strategic side-by-side positions with the Feroxian serving as the main vanguard, so as to prevent the Bow Knight from getting a direct shot at her.  

One by one, the last few Risen fell to the sword and lance of the impromptu unit.  Cordelia had heard from others that the gruff brunet was a highly skilled soldier, but until now she did not have an occasion to witness his abilities first hand.  To say that she was impressed was quite the understatement; not only did he handle both body and blade with a disciplined yet graceful air, but he seemed to be well aware of her position at all times.  Whenever she moved in to block a blow for or with him, he knew exactly where to be and what to do.  Both of their attacks seemed precisely coordinated, as though they had been fighting together for years.

Cordelia pulled back a strand of sweat-soaked hair away from her face and gestured for her mount to land lightly  on the ground.  “Wow, that was something,” she commented, watching as Lon’qu stood up from the dissipating corpse of the other Fighter.

The man’s spine straightened uncomfortably and he sheathed his sword with an unusual amount of force.  “Hmph.”  Before she could say any more, he stormed off in the direction Vaike had gone, walking quickly as though trying to get as far away from her as fast as he could.

Cherry colored brows furrowed, puzzled at the strange and sudden behaviour.  She had a mind to go after  him and demand to know what his problem was, but the sudden appearance of her superiors stalled her plan.  “Robin.  Lord C-Chrom.  I’m so relieved to see you both alive.  Are you alright?”

The prince looked bruised and dirty, but otherwise unharmed.  Robin was in the process of wiping away a small trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with the sleeve of her Tactician’s robe.  “We’re both well,” she answered.  “No serious injuries.  And it looks like everyone else has fared the same.”

Chrom grinned appreciatively.  “Thanks to your brilliant planning,” he complimented.

Robin waved a dismissive hand.  “They were low-leveled Risen, easy enough to counter for the most part.  Anyone could have put together a good plan in this case.  But thank you.”  She turned her full attention to the other woman.  “May I have a word with you, Cordelia?”

She was slightly preoccupied with watching her lord walk away to look in on his sister.  But at Robin’s request, she tore her gaze back and forced herself to focus.  “What?  Oh, yes of course.”  She dismounted and gave her faithful pegasus a pat on its neck, allowing it to walk around a little and graze on any clean grass it found.  They followed leisurely.  

“You fought very well today.  And you had the presence of mind to spot a comrade in need of help. Without you, Lon’qu could very well have been hurt or worse.”

“Thank you, but it was nothing really.  Anyone would have done the same in my position.”

“That may be true.  Nonetheless, I’d say he owes you one.”  Robin stopped walking and turned to face her.  “I couldn’t help but notice that the two of you did really well together.  You synchronized your attacks and movements flawlessly and knew exactly when to defend.  I’d be interested to see what else you’d be capable of as a unit.  If the situation arises in the coming battles, would you be comfortable pairing up with Lon’qu?  I think you’d make a pretty good team.  I won’t force it on you, of course.”

Cordelia shrugged.  “I don’t know him at all, but I have no objections.  If Lon’qu is agreeable, then I would be more than willing to give it a try.  Although...”  

“Yes?” Robin prodded.

She frowned.  “At the conclusion of our battle, I got the distinct impression that he had taken an immediate disliking to me, but I can’t imagine what I might have done to offend him so...” She trailed off, startled when Robin began to laugh.

“Sorry,” she said.  “I assumed you would have heard by now.”

“Heard what?”

The Tactician began to stroll back towards the others, motioning for her to follow.  “It’s not that he doesn’t like you in particular.  Lon’qu apparently has an extreme case of gynophobia, a deep and somewhat debilitating fear of women.”  They stopped for a second so Cordelia could retrieve her ride’s reins and lead it on as they regrouped.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” she responded, truly alarmed.  Nervousness was one thing, common and understandable, but true fear was something she had never encountered.  And if she had to hazard a guess on who would likely possess such a phobia, the swordsman would not have been her first choice.  “If he is so afraid of women, how was he able to fight by my side with such skill and awareness?  And will he be able to continue?”  Cordelia had a trusting nature when it came to her comrades; one really did not have a choice in war.  But she wasn’t sure she could put her life in the hands of someone with a pathological anxiety of her simply because of her gender.

“It doesn’t seem to be an issue in battle.  I’ve paired him with a few different women to see how he reacts and so far it looks like he’s able to cope.”  Robin smirked at some sort of inside joke.  “I’ve been trying to help him work on the issue as well using some rather unconventional means.  I think he’ll be okay.”

They stopped a few yards short of the main group, both observing the man in question.  It looked like he and Vaike were about to get into some sort of altercation, but Chrom stepped between them and appeared to be reprimanding the both of them.

“Let’s just try it out for a while and see how it goes.  If it’s too difficult for either of you, we can always re-assign your positions.  In the meantime, you might try getting to know him a little during downtime.  He’ll resist of course, but trust your judgement.  If you have any issues, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The Pegasus Knight pried her eyes away from Chrom and nodded.  “As you wish.  I will do my best.”

Robin smiled and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “I know you will.”  

Cordelia suppressed a sigh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are appreciated!


	3. The Path to His Heart

_**Chapter Two: The Path to His Heart** \- As the old adage goes, “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”.  Men naturally want a girl who can cook, as it will be one of their principal duties in the marriage relationship.  Cultivate a talent in preparing delicious and nutritious meals to showcase your potential as a wife.  Show your love for him by making his favorite meal or other little treats and you’ll certainly get his attention._

The second chapter featured plenty of different recipes that were supposedly guaranteed to be a hit with any man as well as a lengthy sermon on a woman’s place in the kitchen.  Cordelia found it distinctly sexist for the most part, but figured it couldn’t hurt to be more creative and intentional when her turn came in preparing meals for the troops.

The problem wasn’t so much that she couldn’t cook; she was actually pretty gifted in that area, especially compared to the other women.  The real issue is that she had no idea what Chrom’s favorite meal was or anything really when it came to his tastes.  She was too shy to just go up and ask him, and she couldn’t discreetly question anyone else who might know to find out.  Her only real option was to try a bunch of different recipes and watch to see how he reacted.

At least it was fortunate that whenever she was assigned to meal prep, Robin gave her full creative control over the dishes and the other helpers.  It was sometimes difficult to get the others to follow her instructions precisely; they tended to be lackadaisical or opinionated.  And lately, Sumia was a constant presence and a little in the way, working on some sort of pie recipe of her own invention.  But as always, everything came together well, and the Shepherds were both excited and extremely complimentary as they consumed her edible masterpieces.

Cordelia smiled, genuinely pleased and happy to see almost all of her comrades perk up as she served them, and she returned each kind word with thanks.  Even Chrom brightened when he entered the dining tent to find her on meal duty, and it took every ounce of control she had not to blush and faint when he expressed his gratitude.  She continued to keep an eye on him after he sat down next to Robin and started eating, hoping that a look on his face or his body language would give her a clue as to what he enjoyed the most.

“Hey, look out!”  

She heard the words too late as something tumbled into her, knocking her down, thankfully AWAY from the serving line.  She groaned in pain as the source of her fall struggled to extricate itself from her and something warm and moist began to seep into her clothes.

“Oh gods... I’m so sorry, Cordelia!”  Her fellow Pegasus Knight pushed herself to her feet and offered her a hand.  When they were both righted, Sumia seized a dish towel from the table and began to wipe the remnants of some sort of crumbly confection off of them.

The elder knight sighed.  “It’s alright, Sumia.”

“Oh... I got my pie all over you.  It’s completely ruined.”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow.  “So are my clothes,” she pointed out.

The contrite klutz looked on the verge of crying.  “I know.  I’m so sorry.  I promise I’ll wash them.  Oh this is so embarrassing.”

The now soiled rider pulled a small chunk of pie from her sleeve and stared at it.  “What exactly is this?  I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Sumia tried for a weak grin.  “It WAS rhubarb-and-fiddlehead pie.  I made it for Chrom.  Ugh, and I finally got it right again too.”

“For... for Chrom?”  Cordelia’s swallowed heavily and her eyes widened.

Her friend giggled and flushed.  “Mm-hm.  I was worried about how tired he seemed lately, so I baked it for him to cheer him up.  It took me fifteen tries to do it.  He ate the whole thing last time, and he said he really enjoyed it.  I was hoping to share this one with him.  Oh... now I have to start over.”  She stopped wiping her clothes and stared at Cordelia’s face.  “Hey... are you okay?  You’re not hurt are you?”

The redhead wasn’t injured, not physically anyway, but it felt like an icy vice-like grip was seizing her chest and twisting mercilessly.  She had always known that she wasn’t the only one who harbored feelings for their commander, but she hadn’t expected Sumia to be so bold in her own pursuit.

Could she in good conscience continue, knowing that her dear friend had feelings for the same person?

“Cordelia?’

She shook her head and forced a smile.  “I’m fine, Sumia.  I... I need to get back to work.  But I expect you to hold up your promise to wash these.”  She tugged on her stained shirt for emphasis.  

“I will.  I have to go on patrol with Frederick after dinner though.  Can I come find you when we’re finished?”

“Of course.  I’ll see you later, Sumia.”

The other knight nodded and skipped off, inevitably stumbling and falling once again near the exit of the meal tent.

When she was out of sight, Cordelia allowed her smile to sink and tears stung her eyes as she looked down.  Now what was she supposed to do?

“Huh.”

She adopted a neutral expression and turned to address the new interruption.  “Is something wrong, Gaius?”  

The Thief shrugged and held out a bowl for a serving of cabbage stew, which she consented to fill.  “Just didn’t know anyone liked this stuff so much.”  He wrinkled his nose at the smell and stuck out his tongue in distaste.

She carefully handed it back to him, glaring a little in puzzlement.  “If you find it so repulsive, why are you taking some?”

He shook his head.  “S’not for me.”  He pointed to the far corner of the room, where Lon’qu was sitting seiza with arms crossed, avoiding contact with any passing females.  “I guess this is his favorite meal, but he’s too chicken to come and ask you for a second helping.  He promised to give me his share of dessert if I came and got it for him.”  He gave a parting mock salute as he took the bowl over to the other man and exchanged it for a fruit tart.

Cordelia watched as Lon’qu carefully ate, mindful of burning his mouth on the hot liquid.  After a few soft slurps, he paused with eyes closed and smiled.  His posture visibly relaxed eat time he took a bite.

Her mouth fell open and she blinked rapidly, taken back at the sight of the stoic Myrmidon looking cheerful (as much as he could, anyway).  “Well, I’ll be...” she whispered.  After the initial shock, her lips twitched upward, feeling rather pleased.  

Since her conversation with Robin a little over a week  ago, she had done as asked and made an effort to get to know him better.  It was frustrating at times since he wasn’t very forthcoming with any information about himself, nor did he give the impression that he had any interest in her either.  However, he had thanked her for helping him out on the battlefield and offered a favor in exchange to “repay the debt”.  She wasn’t very experienced with swordplay and casually mentioned wanting fencing lessons, but she wasn’t about to force him to spend any more time with her than required.

He had also assured her that he could control his fear of her in combat, and he easily backed up this claim with unprecedented courage.  In fact, they worked so well together that she’d actually begun to enjoy fighting by his side.  Somehow, he made her feel safe amidst the gore and bloodshed, and she felt no fear as long as he was close.

Cordelia watched him finish his dinner, wash his bowl, return it to the dish crate, and exit, still outwardly satisfied and unusually calm.   _‘You know, he’s actually very handsome when he smiles,'_ she thought, blushing somewhat.  She looked down at her cabbage stew and gave it a few slow stirs with her spoon.   _‘In that case, I’ll have to try to make this more often...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments appreciated!


	4. Show Off the Goods

_**Chapter Three: Show Off the Goods** \- Men are visual creatures, and the one of the first things they use to judge a woman’s worth is appearance.  That’s not to say that shortcomings can’t be overlooked in light of a good heart, but a little skin goes a long way towards getting his attention.  So show off your best attributes.  Accentuate the good; hide the flaws.  Be careful to leave something to the imagination, but it doesn’t hurt to spark it!  _

Cordelia almost tossed her book into the nearest river after getting through the third chapter.  It got a little graphic in some parts, and just plain offensive in others.  

As far as looks and body image were concerned, she’d always had a pretty good view of herself save for the odd occasion here and there.  If she was strong and healthy, she didn’t need to concern herself too much with keeping up appearances or fashion trends, though she did have some primping rituals.  She also didn’t worry much about what anyone else thought of her, but the book’s insistence that it was of vital importance made her second guess herself.  Hence, after a great deal of thought and watching Chrom spend time with the elegant and beautiful Maribelle (Sumia seemed to be otherwise preoccupied lately), she decided to give it a whirl.  

One of the problems she encountered in trying to instigate this tactic was that she wasn’t quite sure what to accentuate and what to hide.  She had always been ashamed of her small bust, so that was certainly going to stay covered.  But what else did men find attractive, and more specifically, what did Chrom like?

Something of an answer came after overhearing the other women discuss Virion’s latest efforts to flatter them with overly embellished praise.  Evidently, everything below the waist was fair game.  She didn’t understand, but she had always been diligent in completing strength training drills for her legs, arms, and core.  She experimented with her appearance for a few days before finally settling on simply pinning her hair up into a messy bun, removing the armor from her arms and waist (she refused to take off the breastplate), and switching out her thigh high red boots for sandals to show off her toned legs.  Sadly, she did not own any make-up and naturally hadn’t thought to pack any dresses or other non-combat type clothes but she didn’t look half-bad, all things considered.

She did not think that the minor alterations were entirely inappropriate, but she still felt dreadfully self-conscience and way too exposed.  However, she would not back down after going through the effort.  Her only consolation was that she intended to wait until after supper, when most of the Shepherds would retire to their tents  for the night, whereas Chrom could be found in the mobile War Room.  He, Robin, and Frederick frequently met there and spoke long into the evening about travel plans and strategic formations, but the army’s resident amnesiac mentioned wanting to take a long bath to relax on this particular evening.  That would leave Chrom and possibly Frederick quite alone, and she could loiter in the area until a good opportunity presented itself.

Cordelia slowly peeked her head out of the tent she shared with Sumia and looked around.  A few soldiers passed here and there, but otherwise everything was quiet.  She took one very deep inhale, exhaled her nervousness, and strolled as casually as she could in the direction of War Room, willing herself to ignore the few leers aimed her way.

She was having second AND third thoughts about this whole thing by the time she’d reached the appointed region.  The encampments were always laid out so that the common areas, including the meal tent, bathing tents, War Room, and convoy were generally in the middle along with the personal sleeping quarters of Chrom, Lissa, and a few of the other higher ranked soldiers.

She almost turned around and fled to the safety of her own space, but fortune seemed to be smiling on her tonight.  Not only was Chrom outside and alone, but he was heading straight towards her!  She stopped and raked her fingers through the loose strands of her hair, soothed down the front of her clothes and reminded herself to breathe, lest she hyperventilate.  

As soon as the prince was within earshot, she smiled as sweetly as possible.  “G-good evening, Sir Chrom.  I wondered if you might...”

He hurried past without stopping, mumbling to himself and giving no indication that he’d seen her at all.  His eyes had been completely fixated on the ground as he walked, and in the brief seconds in which she could see his face, it appeared to be tinted a deep crimson.  She managed to just barely hear him say something about steam, stupidity, a “damnable deceptive robe”, and “bigger than he thought” as he went.

Cordelia was too stunned to try and follow, her heart wilting within her.   _‘What on earth was that all about?’_ she wondered.

A rustling noise snapped her to attention, and she turned back in the direction he had just come from.  Now a post-bath Robin was coming as well, but her demeanor was like that of an enraged demon.    

“Cordelia!  Did you see Chrom come this way?” she asked as she neared, pulling on the dark Tactician’s robe over her other clothes.

She obediently pointed, taking a wide step back to avoid being run down by the wrathful woman.  Robin nodded her thanks and sprinted after him.

Cordelia stayed rooted to the spot, suddenly far too curious about what happened between the two of them to be disappointed anymore.  This was a stupid idea to begin with, and she immediately decided that she was too uncomfortable to try anything like this again.  If Chrom ever did fall for her, she would want it to be because of her inner beauty, not her body.

Glad for once that things did not go according to plan, she sighed in relief and started back for her own quarters.  She wasn’t concentrating on her surroundings very much, so she did not see someone exit the supply tent just as she was passing until she ran right into them.

“Oof!”  She stumbled back a few steps, but caught herself before she tumbled to the ground.  “Sorry!”

“Hey, watch it!” the other person barked at the same time, not quite realizing who had walked into him.  

The woman froze as recognition dawned on her, and her ruby irises locked with Lon’qu dark gaze.  She stood there helplessly paralyzed as her combat partner mindlessly gave her a quick once-over before his compulsive fear kicked in and he backed away from her, dropping his worn oaken practice sword and stuttering nonsensically.

She felt her whole body heat up, mortified that the gynophobe of all people should see her like this.  She squeaked a series of apologies and ran the rest of the way to her tent, determined that no one should hear of this and she most certainly would not bring it up with Lon’qu if she could help it.  

Cordelia plopped down on her bedroll and covered her face with her hands.  That decided it... she was going to completely rip out Chapter Three of that stupid book and burn it the next time Frederick started a fire.

She took a few moments to let her heart rate settle and concentrated on regaining her composure.  When she finally looked up, her line of sight fell on her own reflection in the small nearby mirror that she and her roommate shared.  

The Pegasus Knight stared at herself long and hard, considering the way Lon’qu looked at her moments ago.  She had to wonder if she imagined it.  Was that really was some version of admiration and approval in his eyes?  Or was it wishful thinking on her part?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far!


	5. Seen, Not Heard

_**Chapter Four: Seen, Not Heard** \- Women are naturally more relational, and one of the primary ways they nurture said relationships is through conversation.  Few men, however, have a desire to hold deep conversations or find enjoyment from it.  They prefer to keep their inner thoughts to themselves, especially in times of stress.  So do not pry into their lives or nag.  Do not force yourself on him._

Tensions between Ylisse and Plegia were at an all time high with the subsequent abduction of Lady Emmeryn, and every soldier felt it.  Chrom and Lissa were justifiably restless and angry, and only allowed their closest companions near them.  They were still seen out and about around their encampments or as they marched, but they had become nearly unapproachable in their distress.  They only tolerated the constant presence of their oldest friends, Frederick and Maribelle, Robin, and a few personal guards.

The Tactician herself almost disappeared entirely, but everyone knew that she had essentially moved into the War Room and was poring over every Plegian map and tactical manual she could get her hands on, or meeting with the spies and scouts she’d sent out to gather intel.  The rare moments she ceased her studies were to discuss her plans with Chrom, Flavia, and Basilio or when she passed out from utter exhaustion.  

Cordelia did not see any of them often and was deeply concerned for each one.  During mealtimes the past few days, she had noticed that Lissa had taken to biting her nails, Chrom seldom said a word, and she couldn’t remember the last time she saw Robin come in to eat anything.  Simple conversation looked out of the question, especially with Chrom.  Therefore, she had been racking her brain to find ways to either lighten the load by taking on extra responsibilities around camp or think of something to cheer them up or ease their minds, regardless of whether or not they were aware that she was behind it.

It had been difficult at first; all the chores and errands she had undertaken wore her out and was beginning to affect her training.  Amazingly, relief came from an unlikely source.  Lon’qu eventually caught on to the fact that she had taken it upon herself to repair his training equipment as well as prepare cabbage stew for him when the ingredients were available.  To show his gratitude, he finally consented to give her fencing lessons, opting to instruct her from a distance most days.  

She had been as diligent as ever in practicing during her spare time, but with the increased workload on her plate, she wasn’t advancing as fast as she’d hoped.  Her partner quickly discerned the cause of her lack of focus and took it upon himself to assist her or, more often than not, complete her self-imposed assignments before she had a chance to get to them.  She was truly thankful, though the unintended consequence was that she continued to feel that she was not doing enough to help her superiors.

At the moment, the redhead was taking an atypical break to step away and think.  The air was becoming increasingly warmer as the army drew close to the Plegian border, but not yet unpleasantly so with the light breeze blowing.  She was laying down on a soft patch of grass in the field at the outskirts of the Shepherds’ current encampment.  Guards paced to and fro at a distance to maintain the camp’s security, so she had no fear of being attacked.  She watched pure white, gentle clouds float lazily by and thought about Chrom, wishing she had the courage to tell him how worried she was and how much she cared for him.  She took a deep breath in and sighed.

About ten minutes passed by without event.  She continued to bask in the cozy sunlight and relished the steady wind that kept her from overheating.  Her eyelids drifted closed.

Tentative footsteps approached from the camp.  Cordelia assumed that it was another soldier coming to relieve a comrade of his post and did not open her eyes.  The steps stopped a few yards away from her on the right and still she did not move.  It wasn’t until she heard a sound like someone come a little closer and sit down that she finally turned her head to identify the intruder.

To her astonishment, Lon’qu was sitting cross-legged approximately ten feet away from her, very close by his standards.  A sack of potatoes lay on one side of him; he was using a small knife to peel them.  When he was finished with one, he would set it in a clean bowl sitting next to him on his other side.

Except in battle, he still intentionally kept as far away from women as he possibly could, at least as far as she knew.  There was that one time he came close to her in order to move her arm through a complicated series of sword strikes during one of their lessons, and the occasional accidental run-in.  Other than that, it didn’t look like he’d made too much progress lately and he NEVER made the first move.

Perhaps the bold action was a result of his recent interaction with Lissa.  Shortly before Emmeryn was kidnapped by mad King Gangrel, Chrom had assigned the Myrmidon to guard his younger sister from rumored assassins.  The situation was resolved within a few days, but the bubbly blonde refused to allow his phobia to prevent her from asserting her will and getting close to him.  Her natural charms gave her an edge when it came to getting even the most stubborn individual to open up.

Cordelia sat up and smiled, sincerely happy to see him.  It felt strange to admit it, but she actually missed him a little while he was preoccupied with his guard duties.  She’d been paired with Stahl in the meantime, and while the cheerful Cavalier was a nice change of pace, there was just something about the swordsman’s quiet strength that was both alluring and comforting.

“Good afternoon, Lon’qu.  How are you?”

He glanced up from his task.  “Hmph.”

She sighed again, vaguely annoyed.  “Still as talkative as ever I see.”

A pained grimace crossed his face and he made a noise that might have been a cross between a groan and a sigh of his own.  “I am... well.”  He continued peeling deftly, but shifted a bit so that he was somewhat facing her.  “And you?”

Wow, in the same breath he had both bothered to answer and actually ask about her specifically.  This was a bit of a new development for them.  They didn’t exactly have a chatty relationship by any means, although they did talk a little while they were practicing together.  But asking how she was doing was a first.  

“I’ve been alright.  I’m worried about everyone though.  The fighting has been very intense lately, and the whole situation with Lady Emmeryn...” she trailed off, not really sure how to continue.

Lon’qu shot her a look like he doubted her words, but did not comment on the reason.  “You needn’t worry.  We WILL save the Exalt.”

“I hope so too,” she whispered, not quite able to commit to the same certainty he held.  

They were both quiet for a moment, during which the only sound was that of his knife as he worked.  The young woman had many things that she always wanted to ask him, but she also didn’t want to overstep her bounds.   She was naturally polite and professional that way, and the latest chapter of her book reinforced the behavior.  Nonetheless, she wondered if he would open up a little with her if she pressed him just a tiny bit.

“Lon’qu?  I was wondering... would it be alright if I assist you with those potatoes?”  She had noticed on several occasions that he wasn’t quite as guarded physically or mentally if they were partially preoccupied with a task.  She had never gotten him to discuss anything important or personal, but at least he engaged a little more in idle chat.

“You do not have a knife,” he countered.

Cordelia reached into her right boot and pulled out the object in question.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  I always keep one me just in case.  You never know when you might need it.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up for just a second as something like amusement flashed across his face.  She might not know much about his life, but at the very least she could say that she was starting to recognize some of his expressions.

Then he frowned and fidgeted uncomfortably.  “You would be required to... come.... closer... to access them.”

Her smile was unflinching.  “Yes, that’s certainly true.”

He looked up and met her ruby eyes briefly with a challenging stare.

Cordelia suppressed another sigh.  “How about this?  We’ll set the sack and the bowl between us.  We can both sit a few paces away on either side of the potatoes, just enough so we both can reach them by leaning forward.  That should leave you ample space yet.  Agreed?”

Lon’qu looked down at his supplies, then back up at her, analyzing her plan.  Eventually, his eyes narrowed and he nodded stiffly.  He rearranged everything so that they were in front of him and moved back an arm’s length away.

She stood up from her position and strolled over, likewise sitting down the same distance away from the potatoes, facing him.  She giggled softly when his face turned red and he grit his teeth.  “There now; this isn’t so bad, is it?” she asked, reaching for a spud and using her own knife to peel it.

He made a sort of a strangled noise but mumbled, “It is... tolerable.”

Cordelia knew she shouldn’t take it personally, but it stung a little to think that he was still so uncomfortable around her after all of their battles and training sessions.  “Glad to hear it,” she said waspishly.  

She felt his eyes on her, but didn’t look up.  The air felt heavier with tension; it always did with him, but she couldn’t recall feeling quite so exasperated before.

“You are angry...” he observed aloud.

She offered his own usual response to spite him.  “Hmph.”

“Why?”

Cordelia tossed her finished potato in the bowl of clean ones with more force than was probably necessary and snatched another.  “Look, I know you’ve got this pathological fear of women thing, and I don’t expect you and I will ever be besties.  But we do spend a decent amount of time in one another’s company.”  This time, she did sigh loudly.  “I suppose I had hoped that you might have become accustomed to me enough to at least stop treating me like I have some deadly illness.”

Lon’qu stopped peeling altogether and closed his eyes, mildly exasperated.  “I apologize if I have given you the impression that I dislike your presence.  It was not my intent.”

Cordelia let her own hands go still as she scrutinized his countenance suspiciously, but didn’t say anything.

He opened his eyes and met hers for a second, and then looked up and away from her face.  “T-the truth is... I find myself... conflicted... when you are near.”  He flushed even further.

“How so?” she asked.

The swordsman glared at the ground  and resumed peeling his potato.  “The other women in this army are dreadfully... _persistent_ to discover the cause of my fear, and seem determined to help me overcome it.”

She started working again too.  “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but...” He put his finished one in the bowl and leaned forward to take the next.  “I do not do well with having things forced upon me.  I have every intention of overcoming this fear, but I would rather do so on my own terms.”

“And what’s that got to do with me?  Besides the fact that I’m another woman?”

She could swear that he almost smiled at her again.  “You are always remarkably tolerant of my inhibitions.  You do not press your will upon me, or try to ‘fix’ me.  And you have respected my privacy thus far.”

Cordelia shrugged.  “I must admit... I have been rather curious as to the cause of your fear.  But everyone has things they’d rather not share.  It should be up to you if or when you decide to talk about it, and with whom.”

Lon’qu nodded.  “And that is why I truly... appreciate you.  I do not feel as though I must justify myself to you.  I can...” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“Can... what?” she gently nudged.  

He set his jaw firmly and tightened his grip on both knife and vegetable reactively.  “I can... I can simply... enjoy... our time together... without needing to be... defensive.”  His skin took on a whole new shade of red.

Cordelia felt a soft warmth in her chest and her own face began to glow.  “You _enjoy_ being with me?”

“Hmph.”  He’d reached the limit of his ability to speak of matters below a surface-level friendship and resorted to his typical reply.  

This time, she understood him perfectly.  “I... I enjoy our time together as well, Lon’qu,” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but a small smirk replaced his usual glower.

She just giggled, and the rest of their afternoon was spent in a respectable, but comfortable silence.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. Just to clarify, in the timeline of this story, Lon’qu and Cordelia have had their A Support Conversation at this point. The rest of the story is my take on the time between the A and S Support.


	6. The Art of Affirmation

_**Chapter Five: The Art of Affirmation** \- Men are far more insecure than most women are led to believe.  They too need to be reassured that they are strong, skilled, or attractive and that they are highly valued by the women they love.  Take any and all  opportunities  to compliment  him.  And try to be specific so that he knows it’s genuine.  _

One more day.  In one more day, the Shepherds would reach the Plegian capital and rescue Lady Emmeryn.  Robin had put everything she had into the battle plan.  She used every possible resource and calculated every possible scenario for the coming storm.  Nothing was left to chance, and everyone was certain that Ylisse would be victorious.  

There was still an underlying sense of anxiety, but when their commander resumed a more normal routine, training WITH others instead of alone and making himself more available for casual conversation, everyone else breathed a sigh of relief as well.  He was utterly confident in their brilliant tactician and in the strength of his comrades.

Seeing him smile again brought joy to Cordelia’s heart, and she had resolved to actually tell him this.  She’d been given the opportunity to speak with him a few times, but it was all business - instructions for her role in the coming battle.  She simply got too nervous to change the subject to a more personal matter or find a way to work in some form of compliment.  

That’s why she woke herself up extra early today.  She knew Chrom still liked to work out alone for a little while first thing in the morning, and he was usually one of the first ones up.  If she could beat him to the training area, she might be able to convince him to spar with her, and hopefully she could initiate some of Chapter Five’s tips on affirmation.

She dressed in her normal Pegasus Knight attire and armor and pulled out a wooden practice blade, bemoaning the stifling heat even at this hour.  The country of Plegia encompassed a great deal of desert land, and though there was little humidity, temperatures soared as they traveled further west and south, closer to the main city.  The air itself was dry and stale, and sometimes she wondered if they were inhaling sand along with the oxygen.  She now understood that part of the difficulty Robin experienced while drawing up battle plans was ensuring that the appropriate resources were available to keep the troops strong and hydrated.  They were in foreign territory now and at a disadvantage, and they could just as easily succumb to the elements as well as the enemy.  But their leaders were possessed of high intelligence and foresight, and while the environment was still uncomfortable, Robin’s careful designs made it bearable.

Cordelia snuck out of her tent, being extra careful not to wake Sumia.  It was pretty dark out; sunrise wasn’t for another half hour or so and very few people wandered about.  She yawned and stretched, certain that this was going to be a good day, and that if she could keep herself composed in Chrom’s presence, she might at last succeed in getting him to at least notice her a little.

She strolled casually in the direction of the training yard.  Whenever the Shepherds set up camp, they always made sure to dedicate space for exercising and training drills, usually the open part of whatever area they happened to be in.  It wasn’t uncommon for the more dedicated warriors to utilize more difficult terrain as part of their personal programs, but Chrom only did so with a partner, not because he didn’t want to or wasn’t capable, but because Frederick insisted for his own safety, lest he be ambushed by Risen or assassins.

She wasn’t the first one there, but the few others that were had already paired off to spar or work out together.  If her dream prince stayed true to form, she should have just enough time to warm up her muscles and maybe work through a few strengthening drills.

Cordelia set aside her sword and flowed through a few dynamic stretches, followed by jumping jacks and then, begrudgingly, a light jog.  She was just about to finish her lap around the yard, when Chrom made his appearance.  He was rubbing his eyes and yawning, shuffling tiredly and slouching.  His unique blue hair was sticking out in all directions, and he was wearing a more loose-fitting, black version of his usual garb, minus the armor and cape.

The red head admired his charming anti-morning sensibilities from a distance, sighing dreamily.  She kept out of sight and watched him work through his own warm-up, steeling herself with deep, intentional breathing.  Once he appeared more alert, she pushed down her nerves and dove right in.

“G-good morning, Lord Chrom.”

He looked up from his runner’s lunge stance and smiled.  “Oh!  Good morning, Cordelia.  You’re up early.”

“Y-yes.  I wanted to make sure to sneak in some extra training before we moved on this morning,” she answered.  It was partially true at least.

Chrom stood up and pulled his right arm across his chest towards the other side, using his left hand on his upper arm to stretch out his right shoulder and back.  “That’s very commendable.”  He switched to the other side and frowned a tad.  “You know, I probably don’t say this enough, but I really appreciate how dedicated and dependable you are.”

Cordelia felt her face heat up several degrees.  “I... um... thank you, milord!  Truly, it’s nothing.”

His disarming grin returned.  “And always so modest, too.  You should take a little more pride in yourself.  I’ve been getting lots of reports about how hard you’ve been working for everyone’s sakes.  Much of this campaign would have been far more difficult if you weren’t around to help keep everything running so smoothly.”

She was almost struck speechless.  Not only was she finally having a normal conversation with him for once, but he was actually complimenting HER!  “It’s... I just... I just want to do whatever I can to help, especially if it allows you to be more at ease, milord.”  She rubbed her arm shyly and glanced away.  “Your burden is so heavy; if there is any way that I can be of use...”

“Thanks.  And I assure you, while I might not always notice, I am sincerely thankful for your efforts.”  Chrom took a step back from her and unsheathed a practice sword, giving it a few light swings.  “Since you asked... would you honor me with a duel?  It’s been awhile since I’ve practiced against a Pegasus Knight.”

Cordelia wasn’t sure if she wanted to squeal or faint.  “I... YES!  That would be... I would be honored!  Truly!  Just a moment.”  She ran off to retrieve her own weapon and swiftly returned, excitement bubbling in every ounce of her body.  “Ready!”

Chrom took a fight stance, smirking.  “Don’t hold back!”  He charged forward and swung his blade in a downward strike.

She jumped out of the way.  “As you command!  Hyah!”  She attacked with all her might, relaxing now that she was more in her element.

He blocked the blow and parried, but she was ready for him.  She sidestepped the thrust and spun around him, striking him once in the back before they both returned to their beginning positions.  “Very good,” he said.  “I can see that Lon’qu’s fencing lessons are paying off.”  

Cordelia blushed.  “He is an excellent teacher,” she said.

“And I was told that you are an excellent student.  Gah!”  He lashed out once more.  They traded equal blows until his sword struck her in the arm.  It didn’t draw blood, but it did leave a bright red mark.

“Hn!”  She cringed, but didn’t back down, beating back his next assault while analyzing his words.  “Did Lon’qu tell you that?”  

The prince nodded.  “Indeed.  He said that you are an extraordinarily fast learner.  And if I recall correctly, he also mentioned that teaching you has become one of his few pleasures in this campaign.”

Cordelia stopped, dropping her guard.  “He... he really said that?  Ah!”  She raised her weapon just in time to stop him from smacking her in the face, but it did force her back a few paces.

The Myrmidon had already admitted to her that he enjoyed spending time with her, but to actually divulge that information to another...

“Yes.  He said he’d never met anyone as skilled, intelligent, or as hard working as you.  Er... something to that effect anyway.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, so she just concentrated on the battle at hand, and tried to relish that fact that she finally had Chrom all to herself for a change.  

Everything that he told her were things she had heard before.  There was actually no shortage of people who expressed their gratitude or praised her, and it was certainly nice to hear, if not somewhat embarrassing.  But since she was in love with Chrom, she valued his opinion the most.  Any attention or kindness he paid her was an immeasurable treasure, and she stored such moments in her soul like precious jewels, clinging to them desperately.  She thought her very heart would stop when he directed a smile her way and said he appreciated her.  It gave her hope, small though it was, that maybe... just maybe, she had a chance.

Why now did the moment feel marred in some way?  Why did the knowledge that Lon’qu likewise held her in such high regard create a dual feeling of giddiness and guilt?

Chrom surprised her by lowering his sword and stepping back.  “Cordelia?  Are you alright?”

“W-what?”  She shook her head to clear her thoughts.  “Yes, of course.  Let’s continue.”

Blue eyes scrutinized her closely.  “You’re losing focus.  Is something on your mind?  Is there anything I can do?  Anything you need?”  

Cordelia gulped and lowered her gaze, unable to handle the intensity.   It felt to her like time had suddenly stopped.  She let her sword hand fall while the other came to rest lightly over her heart.  

Maybe she should just confess her feelings.  She’d been keeping them locked up for so long, that at times she felt physically ill.  She loved him... she did... desperately.  Nothing in the world would give her greater joy than to shed this burden and find her love returned.  Perhaps at last she could let down her guard and stop trying so hard.  Perhaps at last she could just breathe.  

Here in this moment, she had his attention.  He was expressing concern and offering to help.  And there was no one else involved right now, no one else around.  Just them.  It was a singular event, and who knew what such an opportunity would come again?

“Cordelia?”

With slow, deliberate effort, she raised her eyes to meet his.  She took a single step towards him, inwardly thrilling when he didn’t back away.  The hand that was resting over her heart shook as she reached out for him.  “Chrom... I....”

“THERE you are!  Been waitin’ for ya, Chrom.  Teach demands a rematch!”  Like thunder and war drums, Vaike bellowed his challenge as he came running out of camp, his sparse Fighter armor clanking noisily.  

The intrusion shattered the moment and Cordelia lost her nerve.  She turned to face the source of the interruption while entertaining thoughts of beating him senseless for his horrific timing, but halted this half-hearted plan.

Vaike wasn’t alone.  Lon’qu and Gregor were jogging beside him.  They stopped at a distance from the formally dueling duo to catch their breath and cool down.  All three of them were covered in sweat and seemed to be worn out.  They must have gotten up even earlier than them and went out for a run together before the Plegian heat would become unbearable.  Vaike’s usual attire was plenty cool, so he hadn’t bothered to alter it.  Recent recruit Gregor the Mercenary had traveled far and wide across many climates and adapted well.  He merely unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up the sleeves to give him a little more breathing room.  But Lon’qu, on the other hand, was far too accustomed to the frigid air of Regna Ferox and his Myrmidon garb was designed for colder temperatures.  He hated the heat; it made him irritable and uncooperative.  

So he coped by forgoing his top entirely and running barefoot, choosing to exercise in just his pants.

Cordelia’s eyes widened and every thought that’d been running through her mind vanished in a proverbial puff of smoke.

It was not like she’d never seen a man without a shirt on before.  Hell, she wasn’t even sure Vaike OWNED a shirt.  But seeing her instructor and quasi-friend  like this... the strong arms that were equal parts powerful and nimble in swordplay, sweat beading down a well defined chest, and the long, lean core... made her systems go haywire and ignited an uncomfortable ache in the pit of her stomach.  

She’d always thought that Lon’qu was attractive physically, and she certainly wasn’t the only one.  But thinking that someone WAS attractive and actually being attracted TO them, weren’t exactly the same thing.  If anyone had asked her before, Cordelia would have put herself in the first camp of thought when it came to the Feroxian and most definitely the latter with the Ylissian royal.

But now... she wasn’t so sure.

“Just a moment, Vaike.  Cordelia?  What were you going to say?”

“Huh?”  She jumped when Chrom tapped her lightly on the shoulder to get her attention.  “I... what?”   

“What was it you were going to say?” he repeated.

She looked back and forth between Chrom and Lon’qu, completely thrown off with whatever she was thinking and feeling.  

The swordsman glanced over at her, holding her gaze momentarily.  There was a disconcerting expression in his eyes and the perpetual frown on his face was graver than usual.  He did not address her; he just walked off to gather the shirt and sword that he must have thrown aside before his run and started to leave, pulling his top on as he went.

She didn’t know why, but she felt the sudden urge to go after him.  “Lon’qu, wait!”  She offered Chrom a low bow with an almost inaudible, “Excuse me, milord,” and sprinted in the same direction he had gone.

It didn’t take her long to catch up, even though she wasn’t exactly a gifted runner and Lon’qu seemed to be making a considerable effort to escape her.  “Lon’qu!  LON’QU!”  When she was close enough, she reached out and grabbed his arm.  “Hey...”

His entire body seized up and he made that odd grunting noise of his, like he’d been punched in the stomach.  “You’re touching my arm.  Why are you touching my arm?!”

“Sorry!”  She let go and allowed him to take several steps away from her, gasping for air.

“What do you want?” he demanded once his breathing had settled.

“I... um... that is...”

In all honesty, she didn’t know.  What did she want?  Why did she chase after Lon’qu when the love of her life was finally within reach, so to speak?  Why did she abandon the chance to confess her feelings at long last?  Why should she feel like she should have to justify herself to him?

“I’m leaving.”

Cordelia almost took his arm again but, remembering his issues, ran ahead of him to block his path instead.  “Don’t go!  I...”

Lon’qu closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.  When he opened them again, she noted a firm look of determination on his face.  He took a single step closer to her.  Then another.  And another.  Slowly but surely, he approached her and stared down at her, a mere foot away, searching for something she could not identify.

“What do you want?” he echoed again, voice low and unlike anything she’d heard from him before.

She kept her eyes locked with his, wondering what on earth was happening to her... and to him.  How did he manage to overcome his phobia enough to get this close to her?  What was this fear that was stirring within that made HER want to run away for a change?

“I... I just...” Cordelia bit her lip nervously.  Then she sighed and looked down.  “I just wanted to... to thank you, Lon’qu.  C-Chrom told me that you said that I was a good student.  He said that you praised me... and that you take pleasure in our time together.”

He moved back again, some combination of disbelief and pain etched on his features, as though she’d slapped him in the face.  But he instantly composed himself, raking his fingers through his hair once and ignoring her attempt to initiate contact again.  Finally he mumbled, “Have we not already established this?”

“Well, yes...”

“Is it so difficult to believe that even I should wish to spend time with _friends_?”

Cordelia couldn’t decide if she was thrilled or disappointed to hear him refer to her like that.  “No, but... I did not know you held me in such high regard.”

Lon’qu crossed his arms.  “Hmph.  I am not the only one.  As far as I am aware, there is not a single Shepherd that dislikes you.  And I’m sure that you are well aware of your own strengths without hearing it from me.”

She sighed and figetedly nervously.  “True, but still...”  She smiled sincerely, her cheeks turning faintly pink.  “It means more coming from you.”  She surprised herself when she realized that she was speaking the truth.

“Does it now?”  It sounded like he did not believe her.

“Yes,” she maintained.  “Plus... many of my strengths were once weaknesses that I only overcame through the aid and example of others, including you.  That’s another reason why I wanted to thank you.  I’ve grown so much stronger under your tutelage.”

“There are many others who could have instructed you in swordplay.  There is nothing I’ve shown you that you couldn’t have learned elsewhere.  You owe me no thanks.  I am simply repaying a debt.”

“So you say...” she murmured.  “Regardless, if I have grown skilled, it is also because you are a wonderful and patient teacher.  And there are other things that I have learned from you as well.  But... all of that pales in comparison to the fact that in you I have gained a valuable ally and partner... and friend.”

His shoulders fell, hunched with the flash of resignation that radiated from his form.  “Hmph.”  He took a wide step around her and continued on his way, no longer willing to continue the awkward conversation.

This time, Cordelia did not chase after him.  She kept her eyes on him until he disappeared in the growing crowd of Shepherds beginning their morning routines.  

Part of her was still lamenting the fact that she had allowed an ideal chance to spend more time with Chrom and open her heart to him slip away.  But there was an unspecified yet growing portion of her heart that was grieving over the knowledge that she had caused Lon’qu some sort of pain.  She knew neither the reason for his distress nor the source of the guilt and feeling of divergence in her mind.  After all, everything she had just told him was sincere.  

What on earth was happening to her?

Her armored hands unconsciously clenched into fists at her sides, and she sighed.  Apparently, she really needed to work on this whole affirmation thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	7. Pain is Not Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Fanart by Storm-Studio](http://storm-studio.tumblr.com/post/99493088516/cordelia-did-not-know-how-long-they-were-there)

_**Chapter 6: Pain is Not Pleasure** \- Life is not always a kind mistress nor are the gods generous.  Everyone will inevitably suffer pain, moments of grief, and loss.  How one chooses to handle that pain, especially around men, is critical.  Do not show him weakness or vulnerability.  Doing so tells him that you are needy, and that is a major turn-off.  Also, men rarely know what to do with a crying woman.  Therefore, if you are experiencing hardships and require support, turn to your gal pals instead, and only show the joyful, strong side to your special guy._

It was oddly fitting that the Shepherds were forced to withdraw to Regna Ferox following the death of Lady Emmeryn.  The howling winds and the bitter cold were an outward reflection of what was happening in their heavy hearts.  It was almost a welcome relief in a strange sort of way.

Chrom and Lissa were devastated.  The former was torn between his rage at the Plegian king, his sorrow, and his uncertainty.  Lissa had been reduced to a sobbing mess.  But the Shepherds gathered around their leader and proffered words of comfort and professions of fealty no matter his course of action.  He accepted their love and swore to end the war as quickly as possible.

Spurred on by Flavia and Basilio, he might have charged off immediately were it not for Robin.  Ever the voice of reason, she stepped in and calmed his raging temper, reminding him that his soldiers required rest and everyone needed time to grieve.  After speaking with their new Dark Mage, Tharja, she was certain that Plegia would not retaliate right away; they would need a few days at least to quell the rising rebellion within its own borders  and reorganize their forces.  Therefore, the Shepherds should take advantage of the situation, brief though it was, and likewise regroup.  He was reluctant, fearing that a counter-strike could be hot on the heels of their retreat, but they eventually reached a compromise of three days of recovery before diving right back into combat.

She spoke at length with the Khans, utilizing Feroxian scouts to keep tabs on Plegia and also negotiating a sort of room-and-board arrangement until they were prepared for the final wave of the war.  Flavia readily consented, and kindly assured Chrom that Ylisse owed them nothing beyond allegiance in the future during this trying time, and assurance that Gangrel would be shown no mercy.  

With the basic necessities arranged, Robin convinced the prince to take this time to be with his younger sister and tend to his own wounds, inside and out.  Frederick heartily agreed and vowed, as always, to care for his charges in whatever they may require.  Chrom finally gave in, and left Robin in command to work on the next phase of their battle plans and see to the troops while he and Lissa (and usually Frederick as well) remained behind the closed doors of their adjoining guest rooms and mourned the loss of their beloved elder sibling.

Whatever strategies the Tactician was devising when shut in the Khans’ War Room was kept under wraps.  Robin’s kind nature gave her a keen awareness of what to do in most situations, and she knew that no one was willing or able to discuss battle maneuvers at the moment.  She mentally left all tactical scenarios behind whenever she emerged.  During the first day and a half of their stay, she focused entirely on provisions and morale when speaking with the Shepherds.

 One-by-one, she made the rounds, speaking with everyone individually to find out how they were holding up and asking if there was anything they needed.  She was sometimes accompanied by newcomer War Monk Libra, who offered prayers of comfort on their behalf.  Everyone loved and trusted her, and they easily spilled the contents of their sorrowful hearts after gentle prodding.

Their recent recruits: Tharja, Olivia, Gregor, and the manakete, Nowi, as well as Lon’qu and Donnel were empathetic, but as they did not know Emmeryn personally, felt a little out of place.  To help them be a little more at ease, Robin put them to work restocking the convoy, preparing provisions for the road, and other useful tasks to lighten the burden on the rest of the Shepherds.  Though Tharja’s gloomy personality made it seem otherwise, they were all happy to oblige.

Everyone else expressed their anguish in their own way.  Frederick blamed himself for his failure to protect her, but promised that he would not allow the remaining royals to succumb to the same fate.  

Sumia, Maribelle, and Lissa each collapsed in Robin’s arms and openly wept.  Afterwards, they would share fond memories of the Exalt, followed by more crying.  

Virion admitted how much he admired Emmeryn’s leadership and beauty, and reminisced about the plight of his own country over tea.  

Sully insisted they speak while dueling to let out her aggression, but even she could not stop the tears streaming down her face as they fought.  

Miriel pondered the meaning of life and death, of the anatomical origin of tears, and rattled off the various funeral customs of different countries in a strained, whispered voice.  

Gaius and Stahl both seemed to have lost their appetites, pushing their food around their plates and staring off into the distance.  

Vaike got insanely drunk; whatever he tried to tell Robin was lost in the translation of slurred ramblings.  

Kellam simply sat in a corner, saying very little other than to share that Emmeryn was the only one who would always see and acknowledge him.  

Ricken talked about how he used to hate that she seemed to treat him like a son, but realized now how much he was thankful and cherished it.  

Panne remembered how she was the first and only human ever to apologize to a Taguel for the destruction of her race, and the profound impact this had on her.

Cordelia was probably the only one who had yet to express her grief in any form.  In fact, she’d been helping the others repair weapons when Robin sat her down to talk, on the second afternoon of their mini retreat.  She didn’t really feel anything, which she certainly thought was strange, but she could honestly say she was doing well.  

Robin softly asked her a few probing questions about her experiences with Emmeryn, but there was little to tell.  She’d met her of course, spoken to her on a few odd occasions, but could not boast of a close, personal friendship.  She was far less concerned about her own feelings than she was about everyone else’s, especially Chrom’s, though she did not say so lest her unrequited love for their commander be discovered.

However, the shrewd strategist remembered that the Exalt was not the only one to perish on the dusty court of the mad king.  Captain Phila and all of the highest ranking Pegasus Knights likewise met a bloody end at the hands of Risen Archers, falling with honor in defense of their ruler.  Cordelia loved them all, and was deeply loved by them.  It was a haunting repeat of the battle at the Ylissean capital, when her fellow squad members were heartlessly cut down, protecting her and insisting that she flee to warn Chrom of the impending attack.  

Now with the demise of the others, she and Sumia were the only ranking members left of the Pegasus Knights.  There were a few units of greenhorns, but none who were directly charged with defending the royal family or appointed as commanders.  They were alone.

Robin surmised that the entire ordeal had rendered Cordelia in a functional state of shock.  She understood the circumstances and she felt some sadness, but it hadn’t really hit her yet.  “It’ll be difficult when it does,” she told her.  “Based on previous experience, I expect when it happens, the floodgates will open.  Everything will come crashing down.  You may almost feel as if you were drowning.”  She set caring hand on her shoulder.  “When it does, don’t try to contain it.  Just let it go.  If you feel like you want to be alone, be alone.  If not...” She smiled benevolently.  “You know where to find me.  In the meantime, do whatever you feel is right.  Just be sure to get plenty of rest.  Okay?”

Cordelia assured her that she would, but wasn’t until after Libra relieved her of the heavy crates she’d been carrying and instructed her to eat properly that she took it to heart.  Since Robin insisted she do what she felt to be right for her, she decided to spend the extra time grooming Catria.  

Even though there were certain breeds that thrived in cold regions, Regna Ferox itself did not boast of a large population of pegasi, let alone Pegasus Knights.  Nevertheless, they still maintained an impressive set of stables, including one designated specifically for guests of the state.  They primarily housed horses and wyvern, and the riders kept it fully clean, stocked, and heated enough to keep the beasts comfortable.  Cordelia and Sumia saw to their own mounts when they arrived, but allowed the curious stable boys (and girls) to brush and cover them and pretended not to notice them feeding their animals small treats.  Still, the redhead usually prefered to tend to Catra herself, not because she didn’t trust others to do so, but because she truly cared for the winged steed as a dear friend.

“One of the first things we’re taught as Pegasus Knights is to treat our animals with the same respect as a comrade,” Cordelia had told the preteen boy assigned to Catria, “for that is exactly what they are.  When we ride them into combat, we are risking their lives as well as our own and they willingly follow our lead.  We must give them the selfsame care as we give ourselves.”

She let the stable boy feed her pegasus, and then dismissed him to tend to the other animals, leaving her quite alone with Catria and Sumia’s steed, Caeda.  She smiled as she brushed the flaxen mane, almost girlishly wishing that her own hair was as soft.  Catria stood remarkably still, head hung a little low but making no move to eat the ample feed provided in her borrowed trough.

“What’s wrong, girl?  Why aren’t you eating?”  Cordelia asked.  Naturally, she didn’t expect a vocal answer, but she could always tell what was meant by the movements and various noises she made.  “Is the cold bothering you?  I could find some extra blankets.”  The pegasus did not budge in the slightest.

“Hmm... are you a little lonely, perhaps?  But your friend Caeda is here with you,” she mused.  Hearing her name, the other animal snorted with a distinct sense of sorrow.

“Then again, you’re used to being cramped in a full stable of pegasi back in Ylisse.  Are you homesick?  We’ve been on the road for quite a while now.  Unless...”  Her hands stilled as she looked more closely into Catria’s melancholy eyes.  “Of course... how thoughtless of me.  We aren’t the only ones mourning fallen friends.  You and Caeda lost loved ones as well.”  

She resumed brushing at a much slower pace.   “Palla... Est... Misha... Shanna... Achaeus... you must miss them terribly.  You all got along so well.  And you were good friends with their riders too.”  She moved to the base of the neck, being mindful not to ruffle the folded wings.  “Clair... she used to bring you the sweetest fruits from her garden.  And then of course, Vanessa would get angry with her for not sticking to the strict diet she developed for you guys.”

Cordelia fell silent for a moment and concentrated on a particularly stubborn tangle.  Once it was out, she smiled fondly.  “Tana liked to braid your hair.  She used to talk about buying jewels to clip in, but Farina would always say that we didn’t have the budget for it.”  She lightly touched Catria’s wing.  “Will you open, please?  I’d like to brush underneath.”  The animal understood and did as asked.

The woman stroked the body in long, smooth glides.  Then she giggled.  “Remember how Florina would try to hide in your wings whenever one of the men walked in?  We always thought it was so pointless, since you could see still see her legs.”  

She slowed her movements even further.  It suddenly felt like there was a heavy weight in her chest, and the air tasted so much staler.  And something was stinging her eyes.  “Phila... every night  before we settled in, she would get out her harp and play for us all.  She always sang songs about the Pegasus Knights of the past, encouraging everyone to do their very best.  She used to tell me that if I gave it my all, one day... bards would write songs about me, and our descendants to come would sing them to their own children and comrades.  This in turn would inspire a new generation of Pegasus Knights, thus ensuring our eternal legacy.”

Cordelia stood still, eyes trained on the ground but seeing nothing.  The brush fell from her hand and clattered to the floor as tears started to fall.  Her breath hitched, and her chest began to heave in strangled gasps as her whole form shuddered.  Allowing herself to actually think about them and say their names out loud broke the dam in her heart.  

They were gone... ALL of them.  She’d wept for her other comrades, but she had known then that she could count on Phila and the royal guard to see her through.  But now they too had perished.  She and Sumia truly were all that was left of the eldest of this generation of Pegasus Knights.  

Cordelia fell to the stone floor, weeping bitterly.  She barely registered Catria nudging her with her nose, but she simply curled further into herself, huddling in a ball on her knees, her hands covering her face.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed alone like that, only a couple of minutes at most.  But between the deluge of memories, regrets, and fears, she was aware of another presence besides the pegasi in the room and somehow knew who it was without looking.  

Damn Lon’qu and his inconvenient sense of timing!  Why did he always manage to show up when she was at her worst?  Phobias aside, he didn’t seem like the type of person who could handle being around others in highly emotional states.   Add in two additional strikes for the fact that she was a woman and that they’d been unusually delicate around each other lately, and it was a fantastic recipe for all kinds of awkwardness.

She did not look up at him, even as his uncertain steps drew near.  She tried instead to swallow her hiccups and wiped at her eyes furiously, desperately trying to compose herself.  “Lon’qu... sorry.  I’m sorry... I...”

“Don’t,” he cut her off.  

She gasped when he grabbed her roughly by the wrist and pulled her to her feet.  Loosening his grip, he stiffly dragged her over to one of the wooden benches against a wall and pushed her to sit down.  She was too startled to say or do anything.  She just stared in wonderment as he walked over to a storage cabinet and pulled out a blanket and tin cup.

Lon’qu returned and draped the blanket around her shoulders, though his movements were jerky and his face was ablaze with nerves.  Then he poured her some water from his own canteen and handed her the cup.  She stared at him incredulously, tears still streaming down her porcelain cheeks as he sat down beside her on the other side of the bench.  

“Uh.... thank you?”

“Hmph.”

Not knowing what else to say for now, she took a slow sip from the cup to rehydrate her scratchy throat.  After the first drink, she gulped down the rest, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was.  When she was finished, she stared at the floor, unsure of what to do.

“Cordelia...” Lon’qu mumbled, so softly that she almost didn’t hear it.

She lifted her head gradually.  “Y-yes?”  

He closed his eyes and gulped with clenched jaw, still beat red and sweating around the hairline and neck.  Finally, he turned to face her, dark irises boring into hers.   “Don’t... don’t hold back on my account,” he said at last.

“I’m... not sure what you mean,” she answered honestly.

His gaze was unflinching.  “You’ve... lost people that you care about.  You’re grieving.  Now is not the time to consider the feelings of others.”  He frowned a little, glaring as though reprimanding a child.  “Be selfish for once.  Ask yourself... what is it that YOU need?  What will help you get through this?”  He turned away again.  “If you need to cry, then do it.  Don’t restrain yourself just because you think it will make me or anyone else uncomfortable.  If you wish to speak with someone else, I will go find them.  If you want to be alone, I will leave.”

“No!  Don’t go!  I mean...” she’d answered without thinking, but knew instantly it was true.  She didn’t want to be alone right now.  More specifically, she didn’t want _Lon’qu_ to leave her.  

It amazed her a little to think that of all the friends she had in the Shepherds, her introverted, stoic combat partner was the one who not only gave her permission to be expressive with her sorrow, but she herself felt at ease doing so with him.  That’s not to say that it would be dramatically different with any of the others; it might even be easier.  But what she needed right now was someone strong enough to handle her in this messy state, as well as give her the care and compassion she required.  In the space of a few minutes, Lon’qu had shown her both, in spite of his own misgivings and emotional clumsiness.

“Lon’qu... I...”  Deeply touched by his actions and still reeling in misery, the tears returned with a vengeance.  Cordelia made the split second decision to follow his advice and do what she most wanted and needed.

The tin cup clattered to the floor.  She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist when he lifted his own in surprise.  She curled up at his side and buried her face in the side of chest, just beneath his shoulder.  She clung to him desperately, releasing the tentative hold on her breaking heart, and sobbed uncontrollably once more.

He sat perfectly still and said nothing.  And if he made any attempt to pull away at the first, she did not feel it.  She just kept right on crying, hugging him so tightly that during the small windows in which she settled down before breaking again, she wondered if he was even able to breathe.

Cordelia did not know how long they were there, or how long she cried.  She couldn’t guess how many times the waves of her tears ebbed and flowed like a raging storm.  What she did know is that when she came to herself enough to reconsider his discomfort, she realized he’d been holding her nearly the whole time.

His body remained rigid, mouth clamped shut in a straight line and the anxious blush ever present.  The strong arms that had enveloped her were stiff and timid, as though he were clutching a rabid animal instead of a hysterical woman (which, she mused in retrospect, were probably not that all that different).

Even so, he held her still, swallowing his own pride and fear and creating a sanctuary for her in his arms.  And as she loosened her grip on him and wiped away the tears, she could think of nowhere else she’d rather be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the names of Cordelia’s fellow Pegasus Knights and their Pegasi from previous Fire Emblem games. I have not had the opportunity to play any of them, so please don’t read too much into what I’ve written here.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! As always, comments are always appreciated!


	8. All's Fair in Love and War

_**Chapter Seven: All’s Fair in Love and War** \- It goes without saying that until men are in a committed relationship and/or married, they will continue to fraternize or flirt with other women in their social circles.  This means that you must inevitably compete with these women in order to win him for yourself.  There are many different ways to handle your rivals in love, but the bottom line is that you must not do ANYTHING to give them an advantage over you.  Love IS war, and you can not afford to show mercy to your competitors._   

Like a true gentleman, Lon’qu escorted Cordelia back to her borrowed room after it became clear that the bulk of her outpouring of grief had passed.  In actuality, he more or less dragged her there.  She was so tired and out-of-it that he had to lead her by the wrist, gently pulling her along with one shaky hand.  When they reached her room, he opened the door and pushed her inside, refusing to enter out of respect and decency.  He ordered her to get some sleep and promised that either himself or Robin would come to check up on her.

She flopped down on her bed and immediately passed out, forgetting to remove her armor or wash up.  She regretted that the next morning, but felt a great deal better following a long bath and a late breakfast.  She was still very sad and teared up when something reminded her of her deceased sisters, but she did not break down like she did the previous night.

As the day passed, she resumed helping the others with travel and battle preparations and got in some training.  She read her book for a little while, but didn’t really put any thought into it; she just liked having something to keep her mind occupied.  All the while, she kept an eye out for Lon’qu, intending to thank him, but she was unable to locate him.  She asked a few of the others where he might be, but no one knew.  

Around lunch time, Robin caught up with her to see how she was doing.  The Tactician sat down across from her at the table, drink in hand, but no food.

“Ah, there you are.  I’ve been told you had a breakthrough.”

Cordelia looked up from rearranging the vegetables on her plate and offered a half-hearted smile.  “I assume that means you've spoken with Lon’qu.”

Robin propped her arm up on the table and rested her temple against her fist.  “Mm-hm.  I ran into him early this morning; he was sitting in the hall outside your bedroom.”

The redhead almost choked on a spoonful of beans.  “He... what?”

She giggled at the reaction.  “He was worried about you.  Apparently, he stayed outside your room all night to make sure you’d be okay.”

Cordelia hid her blush by taking a long drink of water from her mug.  Once she composed herself, she asked, “Where is he?  I meant to thank him, but I haven’t been able to find him.”

“Sleeping in.  He was up all night...”

“.....”

Robin leaned over and took Cordelia’s hand.  “I know asking if you are alright is a little pointless; everyone is suffering right now and it will take time before any sense of normalcy can be regained.  So let me ask instead: is there anything I can do for you?  Anything I can provide that might ease the pain?”

Cordelia squeezed her friend’s hand.  “Thank you, but no.  Just knowing that I’m surrounded by friends who care is enough.  Hopefully time will take care of rest.  Um... but....”

“Yes?”

She looked directly into her superior’s eyes, brows furrowed.  “Robin, promise me that Gangrel will pay.  And... promise me that I will never have to lose a precious comrade ever again.”

Robin sighed at first.  “Cordelia, nothing is certain anymore.  Some things are beyond our control.  And a single moment, a split decision can change everything.”  Then she mirrored her stern expression.  “But I swear, as long as I am your tactician, I will see justice done.  And I will never allow a single Shepherd to die at the hands of our enemies.  For as long as I serve Ylisse, I will do absolutely everything in my power to protect everyone.”

The Pegasus Knight nodded, content with the promise.

The rest of the day passed slowly.  Save for Chrom and Lissa, the rest of the mourning soldiers began to emerge from their own private reflections and either trained or assisted in preparing for the following day’s departure.  Cordelia never caught up with Lon’qu, but she figured she’d let him rest and recover from the trauma she’d inflicted on him last night.

She spent a great deal more time wondering how both of her commanders were doing.  She’d spoken with Frederick briefly, who assured her that the prince and princess were recuperating as well as could be expected.  Though they still preferred solitude, they too were itching to leave and make the mad king pay for his crimes.

It was Robin that she was really beginning to worry about.  She replayed their afternoon conversation in her mind, and realized that she’d been overlooking some concerning signs.  Just like before Emmeryn’s death, it was clear that she hadn't been sleeping.  Not that anyone was getting a proper night’s rest, but the woman could get a bit obsessive when it came to creating her tactical scenarios.  Her eyes had been bloodshot and her smile, though genuine, was worn and weary.  

It also occurred to her that she never asked Robin how SHE was doing.  Almost all of the Shepherds had been dumping their stories and sorrows on her, but it was doubtful that anyone had taken the time to return the kindness.  Cordelia looked for her at dinner, hoping to do just that, but she was nowhere to be found.  She decided that after assisting in final preparations, she would track her down.  

It proved to be more difficult than she thought.  She checked her guest room, the War Room, Mess Hall, Arena, bathing rooms, library, armory... everywhere she thought Robin might be.  According to Maribelle, she wasn't with Chrom and/or Lissa either.  She’d been seen around here and there, but no one had caught sight of her in a few hours.

Cordelia wandered around for some time, checking other unoccupied rooms, retracing her steps back through the common areas, and questioning anyone she came across, Ylissean and Feroxian alike.  It grew late and dark, and she was almost ready to give up, when she caught the flash of a dark robe disappearing through the War Room door as she came around the corner to search it again.

“Robin?  Hey, Robin!”

The door slammed.  Cordelia jogged over to it and paused.  She could hear thuds and crashes coming from the other side.  Forgoing the formality of knocking, she burst in.  “Robin?!”

The room was in complete disarray.  Maps and battle plans were strewn all over the place; some were ripped into shreds.  The table had been overturned and pieces of a broken sword were sticking out from the side of it.  

Robin was pacing the room, occasionally curling into herself as though about to collapse, but then she would straighten again.  Her hands were covering her face, one of which was injured, for small trails of blood were trickling between her fingers along with tears.  She was gasping; the noises she choked out were a cross between a broken sob and maniacal laugh.

“Robin!”  Cordelia ran to her side, but the woman recoiled and backed away.

She took a moment to breathe deeply and compose herself.  She wiped her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.  “It’s alright.  I’m okay.  I’m okay...”  

Cordelia temporarily occupied herself by righting the table and a few chairs, biting back a sarcastic rebuttal.

Robin leaned against a wall and sunk to sit down on the floor, elbows resting on her knees and arms loose.  She tilted her head back to rest on the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

Cordelia sat down next to her friend and pulled out a handkerchief from a small pocket on the inner lining of her armor.  She wordlessly took the strategist’s bleeding hand and applied pressure to a laceration on the palm, waiting patiently.

“It’s from picking up the shards of my sword,” Robin whispered.

“And why, precisely were you trying to chop the table in half?” the younger asked wryly.

Robin chuckled humorlessly.  “Anger management?” she offered.

“Who or what would make you angry enough to attack a defenseless piece of furniture?”

She didn't answer right away.  She zoned out for a moment, blinking slowly and probably collecting her thoughts.  “My miscalculation... my failure...”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow in confusion.  “What do you mean?”  The cut on her hand wasn't too deep and had already stopped bleeding, so she pocketed the now stained cloth, making a mental note to wash it first thing in the morning.

“Emmeryn... Phila...” Robin mumbled after another a pause.

The Pegasus Knight sighed, eyes downcast as understanding struck her.  Of course; she blamed herself for the death of the Exalt and her royal guard.  She’d spent days preparing for every conceivable contingency and it had all been for naught.  “Robin, you know that it wasn't your fault.  Lady Emmeryn... she made her own choice.  As for the others... there’s no way you could have foreseen that witch’s ability to summon Risen.”

“I know that... I do.  But knowing it and accepting it are vastly different things.”  With a sigh of her own, she continued, “Everyone is in so much pain, especially Chrom.  If only I had understood... if only I hadn't been so afraid.... I might have been able to stop her.”

She wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but insisted, “You don’t know that.”  Cordelia set a firm hand on her shoulder and shook her a little, forcing Robin to face her.  “What’s done is done.  You can’t change what happened.  But you can change the NEXT course.  You promised me, Robin.  You promised that you’d make Gangrel pay for what he’s done.  You can’t sit here and wallow in ‘what if’s’.  We need you now more than ever.  We’re lost without you.”

Cordelia thought her words would encourage the downtrodden woman, but it did not seem to have quite that effect.  Instead, she closed her eyes and swallowed heavily, the frown on her lips deepening.  When her face contorted to a neutral expression, she opened her lids again and nodded once.  Her steely gaze looked infinitely conflicted, and she pushed herself back up to her feet.  

“You’re right.  I need to be strong.  I should get back to work.”  She went about collecting her disorganized documents and tomes.

Cordelia followed her lead, assisting her in cleaning up.  They stacked the books and papers back on the table in no particular order.  “Perhaps it would be better if you rested instead.  You don’t look well.  Things always look better after a good night’s sleep.”

Robin shook her head.  “You may be right,” she admitted, but did not move towards the exit or give any indication that she intended to follow her advice.

Cordelia observed her closely as they worked.  “There’s something else isn’t there?  Something you’re not telling me?”

She shrugged.  

Then she kneeled and reached for the pieces of the broken blade, but Cordelia grabbed her arm, both to prevent her from getting injured again and to reinforce her concern.  “Tell me... please.  You've always been there for me.  Let me help YOU for once.”  She pulled her back up to standing.

Robin moved closer to the table and looked down at the map of Plegia lying on it.  She traced a few imaginary lines with her finger and chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully.  “It is... just as you said.  Everyone is counting on me.  I must not fail again.  I have to keep going...”  She glanced back at her.  “I have to keep my promise to you...”  She pulled up a chair and sat down, propping both her elbows up on the table and resting her head in her hands.

Cordelia likewise took a seat as she mentally analyzed the subtext of Robin’s words and noted her body language.  She looked so very tired.  And as she grabbed one of her tactical manuals and started paging through it, she hunched over the table further, absently massaging the back of her neck with one hand.  Her own body ached just watching her.  Then it hit her.

“Oh, Robin...” Tears gathered in her eyes, brimming with compassion and regret.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn't realize...”

“Hmm?”  She had apparently moved on and had started thinking about the upcoming battle.

Cordelia twisted the edge of her skirt in her hands, a little ashamed of herself for compounding Robin’s stress.  “I... I never stopped to think about how you must feel... how much pressure you’re facing.  You always work so hard for our sake... not just in keeping us safe as our tactician, but you've been doing everything you can to help us cope or to cheer us up.  You've been listening to us go on and on about how upset we are, without us knowing that you feel responsible.  And yet all of us continue to put our faith and our lives in your hands.  It must be such a heavy burden...”

Robin set aside her book and scooted her chair closer.  She reached out and took one of her clenched hands.  “It is a burden I am willing to bear,” she insisted.  She gently placed her other hand under Cordelia’s chin, tilting her head up to look into her eyes.  “I won’t say that it doesn't hurt.  The truth is... it can be suffocating at times, almost like I’m drowning on land.  The knowledge that one miscalculation on my part could result in the death of one of my loved ones, and the guilt afterwards; sometimes it’s so heavy that I fear it will crush me.”  She chuckled and grinned.  “So of course at times I need to have a little melt down.  But I always manage to pull myself together, sometimes with a little help.”  She squeezed her hand in a silent gesture of thanks.  “For Chrom... for you... for everyone.”

She stood up and pulled Cordelia with her.  Then she embraced her in a tight hug.  “You are more than my friends and comrades.  You are my family... I have no one else that I can remember.  You are all so very precious to me.  And I will do everything in my power to keep all of you safe and happy.  That is why I refuse to give up; that’s why... I will keep fighting, no matter what.”

“Robin...”

She pulled back and smiled sincerely.  “I’m sorry I worried you.  But everything’s going to be okay.  I won’t break my promise.”

Cordelia gripped the folds of her tactician’s robe.  “Robin... I shouldn't have... you don’t have to...”

“It’s okay.  Now, didn't you say something about a good night’s sleep?”  She moved to her side and linked arms with her.  “May I have the honor of escorting you back to your quarters, milady?”  She smirked mischievously.

Cordelia knew she was trying to lighten the mood and move on; she clearly had no desire to discuss anything further, at least with her.  She was also well aware of the fact that Robin had no intention of going to bed.  She simply wanted to be alone... to think... to grieve... to plan.  She wanted to stay, but she also wanted to respect her space.

“Very well...”

Robin did just that, and left Cordelia at the door to her room after a second hug, reassurance she would be fine, and a genuine thank-you.  

The Pegasus Knight sat down on her bed, dissatisfied with the whole thing.  She loved her friend, and truly wanted to help.  She was already doing her best to help with logistics and supplies.  And while it was likely appreciated, it did not help to heal the hurt that was simmering below the surface of her cool exterior.  Robin was convinced that she needed to appear calm, collected, and in control so that everyone else could be at peace.  Who would be able to convince her otherwise?  Who might she be willing to share her woes with?

“Chrom...” she murmured.  Of course; they spent nearly every waking moment together and told each other everything.  Except for Frederick and his younger sister, Robin was the only one he had allowed to visit and comfort _him_.  It stood to reason that it would work the other way around, since it was obvious that Chrom cared for her.  Surely he would want to know that one of his dearest friends was suffering alone needlessly, partially for his sake.

It was a trait that the two women shared.  Though Cordelia did not know how deep Robin’s feelings for their commander ran, they understood that the weight of crown was a substantial one, even more so now that he would have to take his elder sister’s place as Exalt.  As such, they were both willing to shoulder any load, if only it would allow him to breathe more freely or bring a smile to his face.  The difference between them was that in addition to all that she did for him, Robin’s other self-imposed tasks were her way of guarding ALL of the lives she held in her hands.

Did Chrom know this?  He had admitted to Cordelia that he didn't always notice when his soldiers performed well above what was required of them.  Was he aware of how much Robin had taken on, not just for him but for everyone?

This wouldn't do.  It wasn't fair that he should remain so ignorant.  Affirmation and acknowledgement was certainly not necessary and should not be the driving force behind one’s actions, but it was appreciated, and helped make the pain worthwhile.  Cordelia probably knew that better than most.  

Having come to that conclusion and wanting very much to see Robin in better spirits, she stood up and left her room, intent on speaking with the prince.  She walked quickly but quietly, not seeking to disturb anyone else who might be trying to wind down or sleep.  Except for a rotation of guards, she passed no one else loitering the stone hallways.

She reached Chrom’s room in little time.  She’d passed by it before, but was either not allowed per Frederick’s insistence or unwilling on her own to disturb him, in spite of how much she ached to see him.  Strange how she was able to muster up the courage when it was on another’s behalf, and the faithful guardian was conspicuously absent at the moment.  She looked both ways down the hall, took a deep breath, and knocked softly.

There were a few rustling noises before the sound of footfalls could be heard approaching.  Then there was a  loud click of the lock turning, and the heavy wooden door creaked open, just wide enough for an ashen face with blue eyes to peer out.

“Cordelia?”

She swallowed and held back the urge to interrogate him about his own well being and offer her assistance.  She was not here to satisfy her own desire to impress or comfort him.  She was here for Robin’s sake.  “Forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, milord.  But I have become aware of a certain matter that I think should be brought to your attention.”

Chrom rubbed his eye and sighed.  “Is it an emergency?  Can it wait until morning?”

Cordelia understood his hesitation, but she also knew that the longer her friend was left alone to her own devices, the more difficult it would be to get her to open up and listen to reason.  She hardened her resolve.  “It is not a dire situation, but I believe it would be inadvisable to wait.  Please, allow me to explain and you can decide for yourself how to proceed.”

“Very well.  Just a moment,” he consented ruefully.

The door momentarily closed again.  When it reopened, Chrom stepped outside of the room and shut the door behind him.  He had pulled on a dark blue sweater over his nightshirt, though his loose black pants and bare feet probably offset the extra garment’s warmth.  “So what’s going on?” he asked, sounding a bit grumpy.

It was a little unnerving to see him look so irritated.  She’d witnessed his anger before, certainly, but not general crankiness.  It was a little off-putting, but she forged ahead.  “Have you spoken with Robin at all today?”

He nodded.  “She stopped by to update me this morning.  And she had dinner with Lissa and I.”

Cordelia crossed her arms.  “And during any of those times, did you ask her how SHE was feeling?  Did she talk to you at all about how she was dealing with everything?”

Chrom opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it and narrowed his eyes.  “Actually, no.  It didn't really come up.”

“I see...”  Her tone was disappointed, but the sentiment was aimed at herself as much as him.  “Truth be told, I didn't consider it either until a little while ago.  So I went to talk to her...”

He raised an eyebrow.  “And?”

“And...” she continued, “I think you should see for yourself.  She’s been so strong for all of us.  She’s been our rock, the solid footing we've needed for purchase.  But none of us thought to repay her kindness.”  Cordelia sighed, worry crossing her delicate features.  “I tried to get her to open up, but she was... resistant.  She gave me her thoughts, but she would not allow me to help, nor fully accept the truth of this whole matter.”

“And what truth is that?”

She looked down at the ground.  “That Emmeryn’s death, that the massacre of the Pegasus Knights... was not her fault,” she whispered.

Surprise overtook him and he too hung his head, the shadows of the dark corridor obscuring his downcast eyes.  “Robin... I TOLD her not to blame herself.  I told her that she is not responsible.”

“And yet she still holds herself liable... and is utterly determined to shoulder the burden of everyone’s welfare on herself.  She assured me that she would be alright, but I fear for her.  I fear that she will break.”

Cordelia took a single step closer to Chrom to get his attention.  “Milord, you are the only she seems to listen to.  If anyone can help her forgive herself and allow the rest of us to stand at her side, it’s you.  I know you’re still hurting and tired, but so is she.  She needs you.”

Having said her piece, she backed away.  “What you choose to do and when is up to you, of course.  But I wanted to at least bring this to your attention.  I want to see Robin smile wholeheartedly again.”  She bowed low.  “Again, I’m sorry for disturbing you.  I will go now.”  With that, she headed back in the direction of her own room.  She heard Chrom thank her, but she did not turn around.

Cordelia did not sleep well that night.  Many thoughts jostled around in her head, and her heart seemed at war within her.  On the one hand, she earnestly prayed that Robin would find some peace, and was glad that she had alerted Chrom in the hopes that he would give her that.  

But on the other hand, she marveled that she did not possess such mettle when she wanted his attention for herself.  Even though she didn’t know how Chrom and Robin felt about each other and recognized their need for one another, it was still unnerving that she was so willing to direct her love’s focus towards other women.  It was even in direct contrast to something she vaguely remembered reading this morning.

After tossing and turning most of the night, she finally gave up on sleep and chose to get some training in before the Shepherds and the Feroxian army packed up and moved out for the final phase of the Plegian campaign.  It was well before dawn; so she dressed and exited her quarters as silently as she could.  

On the way to out to the training yard, she decided to peek in the War Room to see if Robin was awake or okay.  There were no sounds coming from within, but she knew it was highly plausible that her dedicated leader may have passed out on her books and if so, she did not want to wake her. 

Cordelia pushed open the door just wide enough to give her a full view of the small room.  She smothered a gasp and tried not to slam the door shut in disbelief.  

Just as she thought, Robin was fast asleep.  But she wasn’t alone.  Chrom must have taken her advice to heart and checked in on her sometime during the night.  They were sitting up side-by-side against one wall.  Her hood was pulled up as she reclined her head on his shoulder, and his own head was resting against hers.  They were holding hands.

Cordelia smiled sadly and backed out of the room.  She closed the door as soundlessly as possible, turning around to lean against it.  She tilted her head up towards the ceiling, closed her eyes, and sighed.

 


	9. "Boy" Friends

_**Chapter Eight: “Boy” Friends** \- It’s been said that men enjoy the thrill of the chase and the knowledge that they've beaten out their own rivals for your affections.  But that doesn’t mean you should create a minefield of suitors for them to wade through.  It’s perfectly alright to have friendships with other men, but be sure to keep them casual, and do not spend an excessive amount of time with them.  If the one you love sees you doting over his competition, he may make the mistake of assuming you are already taken and give up on you.  In that case, you will have to work extra hard to show him that your love is his alone._

Things were finally getting back to normal.  Gangrel had been defeated and, touched by the final words of Lady Emmeryn, the majority of his army surrendered.  Chrom, Robin, Frederick, Flavia and Basilio conducted a series of negotiations with what was left of the Plegian government in order to sign a peace treaty.  The agreement charged the invading country with paying for damages (which barely put a dent in their shockingly vast amount of gold), provide assurances that they would never again initiate a war with its neighboring countries, and prosecute dissenters who continued to resist.  In return, Ylisse and Regna Ferox would withdraw all troops, were given permission to deal with trespassing defectors who were loyal to Gangrel, and would not interfere as a new ruling party was established.  

Following that, Chrom returned to Ylisstol and met with his (formerly Emmeryn’s) advisory board.  He decided to forgo the title of Exalt, in reverence to his elder sister, but accepted his duty to take up the leadership of Ylisse.  Rumors swirled that he was being pressured to choose a wife as quickly as possible, but he insisted that there were other priorities to deal with first.  Gangrel’s death and the peace treaty officially ended the war, but unofficially there were still detachments of Plegian soldiers and contracted mercenaries harassing the smaller villages and cities in both Ylisse and Ferox.  Chrom was adamant about investigating and eliminating the last of these threats, however minor.  

The Shepherds returned to the city barracks, and any who wished to remain there or go back to their homes were given leave.  Unsurprisingly, none took advantage of this offer.  And so after an extra week of rest and restocking of provisions, they hit the road again in a systematic sweep of the Ylissean countryside and Regna Ferox’s mountainous regions.

Cordelia was dying to know if Chrom had given any thought to whom he would choose to marry.  She didn't have much hope for herself, since he barely knew her or showed any interest.  But she couldn't quite give up yet, as he did not seem to show partiality towards anyone else in particular.  There was a time when she wondered whether Sumia or Maribelle would be chosen; they were both of noble breeding and were considered good friends of his.  However, they seemed to be spending the majority of their free time with Frederick and Donnel respectively and whispers of impending engagements ran rampant.

He appeared to be making an effort to get to know the beautiful and talented dancer, Olivia, but she was so shy that he was unable to hold a proper conversation with her for more than a few minutes.

Finally, since she’d seen them together in the Ferox War Room, she had also wondered if Robin was a contender.  He did seem to spend the most amount of time with her, but nothing in their good-natured banter or long discussions indicated anything more than a deep friendship.  Perhaps she still had a chance.

Unfortunately, she was stuck on what to do.  Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight hadn't given her any insightful revelations since she’d last read it.  In fact, she had been hesitant to continue since nothing she’d tried worked so far, and in some instances, she had outright failed.  She had no other viable options, however, and unenthusiastically resumed reading.

At least there were plenty of Risen and brigands to unleash her frustration on.  It took the majority of Lon’qu’s speed and skill just to keep up on the battlefield.  He reprimanded her more than once for charging ahead without him, especially when archers or mages with wind tomes were nearby.  In fact, she’d even go so far as to say that he’d become remarkably overprotective of her lately.

She wasn’t sure why and she didn’t ask, nor did he say anything.  But he did insist on training with her more often, both in fencing and general combat.  Even now, he kept his distance, but she had the sense that he was making a considerable effort to be closer to her, both physically and mentally.  Since concluding the latest chapter of her book, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that.  Such actions were bound to get the rumor mill started.

“You’re losing focus again,” he barked.

Cordelia paused and reoriented herself, correcting the placement of her feet.  “Sorry...” she mumbled, not entirely honestly.  She reverted back to the basic stance he’d shown her and tightened her hold on the wooden practice sword.  “Hyah!”  She flowed through one of the more complicated chain of strikes he’d shown her.

“You seem to have a great deal on your mind,” he said, observing her closely with arms crossed.  “Again.  Breathe deep.”

She did her best not to groan aloud and did as he commanded.  She silently ran through the sequence a few more times, well aware that his previous statement was also an open-ended invitation to speak about whatever was distracting her.  After completing the repetitions three more times, she rested to catch her breath and began, “I think... everything just feels somewhat surreal.  It’s almost hard to believe that the war is really over.”

He nodded as she started to work on the next series.  “Indeed.  However, there is still a great deal of fighting to be done.  The world will never lack a reason to battle, nor will warriors such as ourselves become obsolete.  Again... don’t falter.”

She sighed grimly.  “There is truth to what you say, but I wish it weren't so.  Ha!  How was that?”

“Better,” he said.  He looked about to say something else, but a strange noise like a scream echoed in the area.  

“What was that?” Cordelia wondered, freezing her motions.

Lon’qu glanced around until his eyes fell upon the massive stack of crates and supplies nearby.  He glared at them.  “Nothing of consequence.  Continue.”

“If you insist.”

The Shepherds were camped at the northern border between Regna Ferox and Ylisse.  To the west of their location was the Arena and to the east was the Longfort.  The most commonly used paths were well known and they’d taken them before.  But evidently, there was another path that lead up to the Western mountain range.  Flavia had sent Chrom a message, saying that Risen and Plegian brigands had been sighted heading that way.  Much of her army had been decimated by the war, and she did not have the resources at this time to look into the rumors.  Therefore, she requested that the Ylisseans check it out at their discretion.  Chrom and Robin were currently debating their options, so in the meantime, the Shepherds set up camp and unloaded the convoy in order to recheck their supplies and repair weapons.

Per usual, almost everyone could be found training in some way.  Since it was the default way to pass the time, the training area had become a bit congested.  Lon’qu didn't do well in crowds, especially one that was composed of equal parts men and women.  Thus, when Cordelia sought him out for their next lesson, he insisted they find some place more accommodating to his gynophobia.  They ended up here, practicing in the clearing behind the supply tents and convoy.

“By the way...” Cordelia said, blushing lightly with eyes downcast.  “I.... I never thanked you.  You know, for that night... when you comforted me.”  She meant to for the longest time, but following Gangrel’s defeat, he had been predisposed, acting as an emissary for Basilio while the Khans were stuck in meetings, as well as training with Robin when Chrom was busy.

Lon’qu’s skin blanched and even with the chilly atmosphere, he was sweating from nervousness.  “Nngh... I-it was n-nothing,” he stammered.

She found it a little funny that he could still get so flustered.  He could hold a decent conversation for a while, but some things still embarrassed him.  She used to get somewhat annoyed when he reverted back to his anxious stammer and careful hesitation, but recently, she caught herself thinking that it was rather endearing.

It was a little confusing too, how her own moods tended to sway around him.  There were times that she couldn't stand him, when his fear drove her crazy and his blunt and sometimes harsh attitude made her want to slap him across the face.  And yet, more often than not, she craved his presence.  She enjoyed their conversations, brief though they were, and their training sessions that inspired her to work harder, determined to someday match his level of skill and dedication.  When they were paired up in battle, she not only felt safe, but strong.  She knew that no enemy they faced stood a chance against them as a team.  

She couldn't freely admit the depth of it, but she treasured that night in the stable, remembering how he held her as she cried.  The memory of it was precious, for it proved to her that he truly cared for and valued her; so much so that he was willing to endure what surely must have been torment for him simply to help her.

She refused to allow her waking mind to consider it, but her subconscious dreams sometimes treated her to fantasies of being held by him once more, minus the frantic sobbing.  She woke from such visions and at first felt deliciously warm and content.  But then reality kicked in and she remembered Chrom, berating herself for having such thoughts when her heart belonged to the prince.

“May I ask you something?” she asked.  She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye.  “Why did you stay with me that evening?  Not just while I was crying; Robin told me that you kept vigil outside my room the rest of the night.”

“Er... I...”  He closed his eyes and a pained twinge replaced his uneasy expression.  He exhaled loudly.  “I... I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.  A-and... I also know how difficult it is suffer alone, to have to pick yourself up from the ashes because there is no one else who will.”  He swallowed heavily, suppressing his emotions.  “It is... not a pain I would wish on anyone.”

Cordelia paused and stared at him, compassion overwhelming her.  “Lon’qu...”  He did not appear willing to get into details so she did not press him.  She just smiled and took a single step closer to him.  “Thank you; truly.”

She waited for his typical “hmph”, but was pleasantly surprised when he mumbled, “You’re... w-welcome.”  She giggled and swung her sword once more.

They were both quiet for a spell; Cordelia practiced her fencing exercises with renewed concentration while Lon’qu observed, at first speaking only to give instructions or corrections.  It almost seemed as though he had become distracted in turn, and she wondered if speaking about the person he had lost touched a nerve.  If that were the case, she wondered if there was something she could do to repay the kindness he had shown her in Regna Ferox.

“... Cordelia?”

She wiped her brow and spared him a glimpse to show that she was listening.  “Yes?”  When he didn't immediately continue, she stopped altogether, lowering her sword.  She tilted her head a little in a silent gesture of invitation.

Lon’qu’s eyes scanned hers, like he was looking for something while simultaneously debating with himself.  His jaw clenched, his shoulders hunched protectively and his face reddened further.  “Cordelia... I...”  After a few more tense seconds, he sighed in defeat.  “I... I believe you are ready to learn a new technique.” He held out his hand so she could hand him the wooden weapon, allowing him to demonstrate.

She blinked rapidly in confusion.  From his body language, she was positive that he was going to say something else, though she didn't know what.  “Er... very well.”   Mentally dismissing it as unimportant, she turned the blade so that he could take the hilt and held it out out so that he wouldn't have to come too close.

He reached for it, but hesitated, glancing back and forth between her face and the hilt.  Then he swallowed and nodded to himself, closing the distance between his hand and the sword.  But rather than immediately back away from her, he came nearer and turned the sword around again, reaching for her hand.

“...Lon’qu?”

“Uugh... t-this technique... like the other, verbal instruction and demonstration will not be sufficient.  You will understand it far better if I manipulate your arms through the movements.”

“If you insist.”  She allowed him to place the sword in both of her hands again.

He adjusted the placement of her fingers, removing some of the tension from her wrist.  He kept one hand over hers and set the other gently on her shoulder.  “Ready?”

Cordelia nodded, fighting hard to focus on the lesson instead of the instructor.  The afternoon air was chilly, and the heat radiating from his body felt awfully inviting.  She unconsciously leaned in a little closer to him, vaguely aware of his distinctive scent.  She’d failed to notice it on the other occasions he’d been near her.   It was an earthy, woodland aroma, grounding yet calming at the same time.  It suited his intimidating, solitary presence.  Moreover, the pressure of his hand on her shoulder was cautious but tender, reminding her once more how secure and oddly comfortable she’d felt in his arms.

Lon’qu pushed her limbs out in a single thrust while stepping forward, and then raised them to come down in a vertical slice.  He gestured for her to step to the side, swinging the sword up to shoulder height, the sharper end pointed up like in his initial stance.  Following that, they swung it forward at a downward angle and returned to the previous position, but on the opposite side.  They completed a horizontal slash, then spun around to face the other direction entirely.  Vertical slash, step-spin, angled upward strike, thrust, horizontal slash, step-spin, horizontal slash and finally, one last angled vertical strike.

They repeated the sequence twice.  “There... think you've got it?” Lon’qu mumbled.

She didn't really want him to let go just yet.  “I.. uh... not quite.  Could we run through it a few more times?” she inquired, avoiding his gaze.

He wordlessly consented.  They practiced together five more times, after which she had to let him release her.  She didn't know what his contact limit was anymore; it seemed to vary depending on the moment, and she could not claim to need further instruction.  He knew she was intelligent enough to pick it up quickly without an extensive demonstration.

Lon’qu backed away several feet  and stood still, hands clenched to help him settle is phobic instincts.  “Nngh.. n-now... you do it.  Stand tall; keep your core engaged.”

Cordelia took a big deep breath in and exhaled.  She cleared her mind, stilled her wildly beating heart, and flowed through the new movements.  She took it slow to start, visually each little action.

“Good,” he said after a few repetitions, smiling somewhat.  “Now pick up the speed and put your full body into each strike.”  

She obeyed, but her thoughts were beginning to wander again.  She was at last beginning to suspect that perhaps she had developed a small crush on her partner.  It was the only plausible explanation for the bubbly feeling in her stomach, the hyper awareness of his quirks and expressions, and the increased need to be in close proximity to him.  These are things she regularly experienced with Chrom, and she did not think it was possible that it could happen with another.

It terrified her.  She had only ever cared for her commander that way, and many of her traits and habits had been adapted in the hopes that he would return her love.  If he never did, where would that leave her?  What parts of herself were completely natural, and which pieces did she graft in for his sake?  Who was she without her love for Chrom?  If he had never been a part of her or ceased to be a part of her, could she face what was left and would she like that person?

Cordelia swung the sword with more ferocity, aggravated with the situation.  She firmly decided that she would not think about it anymore; she was simply too afraid.  She was not yet willing to consider the implications of letting go of Chrom.  Her feelings for Lon’qu were a passing fling, nothing more.  He was a good friend, but that was all.

Maybe what she needed was some time away from him.  If it really was just a phase, surely she would cease to think of him if he wasn’t with her so much.  Plus, if her book was correct in its assumption, maybe Chrom would finally acknowledge her if she wasn't constantly surrounded by other men.  He might even make more of an effort to get to know her.  She sighed dreamily, mentally beating down the sense of guilt that was trying to worm its way into her mind.

“Lon’qu!  Cordelia!”

The named individuals spun around to find Robin weaving her way through the stacks of crates with a book in one hand and a medium sized box balanced on her opposite hip.  Following her were Chrom and Gaius; the former seemed to be glaring at the latter with suspicion.  

“Oh, hello Robin,” the Pegasus Knight replied.  She bowed to Chrom in respect (wilting internally that he should find her with Lon’qu) and smiled at Gaius.  The men offered greetings of their own as the Myrmidon joined them and nodded to each in turn. 

Robin smiled wholeheartedly and kneeled to set her box down on the ground.  “I have something for each of you,” she said as she unlocked it.  She flipped open the lid to reveal six round objects, three of them silver and the other three gold.  In the center of each object was a magic jewel that could transition an individual’s skills, abilities, and wardrobe into a completely different class type, or simply promote one within the same line.

“Are those Seals?” Cordelia pondered out loud.  She’d heard of them, knew that a few of the Shepherds had used them, but she had never actually seen one herself before.  No shop in Ylisse or Regna Ferox carried them as far as she knew.  

“Yeah.  A few of the traveling merchants we've met on our journey had them in stock, so I tried to buy ‘em whenever we had extra coin.  Anna told me there are shops that keep them on hand, but we haven’t been fortunate enough to find them yet.  I've been saving most of them for a rainy day, so to speak.”

She selected one of each type and stood up.  She handed the silver one to Lon’qu, and Gaius received the gold.  “The two of you will be joining me for a separate mission soon.  For optimum results, I’d like both of you to utilize these.  Gaius, you will use the Master Seal to promote to Trickster.”

The outlaw accepted the object and scrutinized it inquisitively.  “I’ll wear any pockets, as long as you line ‘em.  Er... but why a Trickster?  Don’t you think I’d be a totally badass Assassin?”

“I’m sure you would be,” Robin answered with a chuckle, “but there won’t be any clerics with us, and I’d like as many of us as possible to be capable of using healing staves.  I know magic isn't exactly your strongest attribute, but every little bit helps.”

“Whatever... fine with me.”

She turned to Lon’qu.  “You and I will be using Second Seals to enter the Thief class.  We’ll need the abilities it offers, and since your speed and skill is remarkably high, you should do well with it.  After the mission, I’ll have you transition back.”

“As you wish,” he consented.

“We've got about a week to adjust before we reach the path we’ll be taking.  Use the time to get in as much practice as you can.  Gaius and I will pair up in any coming battles so I can observe him more closely.  Lon’qu, I’d like you to work with Panne.  She’s already spent time in the Thief classes, so she can help you adjust.  And if we have any downtime, the three of us will train together so that we’re ready when the time comes to break off.”

Robin reached back into the box and retrieved one more Master Seal.  “Cordelia, this is for you.  I believe you’d be better suited as a Falcon Knight in the long run, but there’s a skill you can learn as a Dark Flier that I think you should acquire first.  Plus, I’m taking most of the mages with me, so you’ll be filling in as a tome wielder until we get back.”

“Very well.  I am yours to mold as you see fit.”

The Tactician picked up her box again.  “You two... meet me in the War Room after dinner so we can start going over specifics,” she told the men, and then reminded the younger woman,  “Don’t forget that you’re scheduled for patrol duty soon.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Good.”  Her business concluded, Robin began to head back to the common areas, chatting with Gaius along the way about different swords, and asking him which would be best to maximize their attributes as Thieves.   

Chrom glanced back and forth between Lon’qu and Cordelia with a curious expression on his face, but said nothing.  He shrugged and then hurried to catch up with Robin.

Cordelia withered inside, knowing that the prince suspected they were more than friends.  She had no idea what to do about it.  As usual, she simply sighed and walked slowly in the same direction the others had gone, intending to use her seal in the privacy of her tent and prepare for her patrol shift.

She did not see Lon’qu’s crestfallen countenance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly believe that Cordelia is somewhat of a one-step-forward/two-steps-back kind of character. I also know first hand how difficult it is to overcome unrequited love, particularly when you've spent a lot of time trying to develop similar interests or particular habits to get someone to notice you. One can easily lose sight of oneself when doing that. Ahh... the follies of youth. :)
> 
> Anyway, please read and review! Until next time!


	10. A Parting Gift

_**Chapter Nine: A Parting Gift** \- Way back in chapter one, it was established that one of the key components to get your hunk’s attention was to do your best to be a constant presence in his life.  Unfortunately, circumstances may force you to part for a time.  If such an occasion should arise, send him off with a thoughtful gift.  Make sure that it is something that he will no doubt appreciate and will remind him of you whenever he comes into contact with it.  Take extra measures to show your sincerity when choosing said present, and do not make it a common ritual with your other friends, male and female alike, lest your intentions be misconstrued.  _

Today was the day that Robin and her team were leaving.  They would be taking the path to the mountains and hunt down any Plegian war criminals or Risen that might be troubling the smaller Feroxian settlements hidden there.  After an intensive amount of training in their new classes, everyone was strong and ready.

Unfortunately, the departing units’ confidence was not entirely shared by the remaining Shepherds.  The issue was not a lack of faith in their comrades’ abilities; it was the general worry that came with being separated from loved ones.  Most of the ones going were leaving a significant other behind, or at least it appeared that way.  

Cordelia watched inconspicuously from the sidelines as physical displays of affection and promises of safe travels were exchanged.  Recently engaged Donnel and Maribelle were holding hands and whispering;  the young duchess was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief but also reprimanding her fiance for his needless fretting.  And then there was Panne... her spine might have been in danger of serious injury from husband Gregor’s bone-crushing embrace, were she not made of sturdier mettle than humans.   Ricken, who was actually getting taller day-by-day, trailed behind Miriel, chattering excitedly about the various wild animals she should watch out for.  She wasn't sure if Lissa and Gaius were a couple, but from the excited way she spoke to him, it was certainly a possibility.  

Lon’qu and Robin were the only two who were unattached, at least officially.  Ruby eyes observed Chrom closely, despairing at the way he seemed to casually touch her arm as he helped her shoulder her travel bag, and how he blushed whenever the newly promoted Assassin looked at him.  She didn't think much of it before, but their interactions over the last week seemed to indicate that the nature of their relationship was changing.  Except for his sister, he had become increasingly dismissive of any other woman who tried to speak with him.  Cordelia hated to think of it as rude; she didn't like to attach any negative traits to the flawless vision of him that she maintained, but sometimes it truly was.  

It was extremely frustrating, especially since Robin’s new training program with Gaius had given her ample opportunities to try to engage his interest.  He had either outright ignored her or only gave half-hearted responses.  Just last night, for example, she offered to tend to the wounds he’d incurred from sparing or make him something to eat, but he declined without so much as a single glance at her.

Chrom’s unintentional disregard further complicated her conflicted heart, blending repulsively with the heavy guilt she felt in that she was knowingly repeating the exact same behavior with Lon’qu.  They had not been paired together in battle over the past week or so, but between his training with Robin, Panne, and Gaius, he still sought her out for their sword lessons.  As much as it pained her to do so, she wanted to dispel any potential rumors regarding the nature of their relationship.  Hence, she avoided him with the same ferocity he once employed with her, pretending not to hear when he addressed her and surrounding herself with the other female Shepherds so that he’d be too nervous to approach.  She imagined that he was probably confused, maybe even upset.  It was hard to be sure; she did not know if he held any true feelings for her.  In any case, Cordelia had been so utterly fixated with the idea of establishing a more obvious presence in the prince’s life instead, that she hadn't kept close tabs on her fencing instructor.

It made her feel wretched.  She knew all too well the sting of rejection, even in minor or involuntary instances.  Yet for Chrom’s sake, she had quite willingly subjected not just Lon’qu, but every other male Shepherd to the same treatment.

Furthermore, it perplexed her a great deal.  She had convinced herself that Lon’qu was just a good companion; they did NOT have feelings for each other beyond perhaps a minor crush.  How could they?  They talked, sure, but what did she _really_ know about him?  He never discussed his childhood, his parents, or the source of his fear and she had neither asked, nor offered up deep information about herself.  Why should she feel remorseful about snubbing him whenever he tried to speak with her?  Why did it matter to her if he should come to dislike her as a result of her recent actions?  Why did she feel like she _missed_ him, in every sense?

Her gaze drifted over to where the Feroxian was examining his pile of weapons and rechecking his travel pack.  She’d overheard Panne say that in spite of his own impressive learning curve, he had some trouble adjusting to the new fighting style forced on him by the Second Seal.  Much of the stratagem employed by this class was at odds with his usual Myrmidon methods and sense of honor and pride, though it did nicely compliment his remarkable agility and skill.  Even so, his commitment to better himself would win out in the long run, and Robin had given orders for him to be issued a Master Seal to bring along for when he conquered the appropriate level.  Cordelia was likewise convinced that he would overcome the challenge, and she smiled a little with pride for his sake.

She sighed, wondering if she should go over and wish him well.  As diverged as she felt right now, she would surely regret it if she didn't at least make it clear that as a _friend_ , she was worried about his safety and would pray for his safe return.  She had even briefly considered packing him a special snack or something for the trip by way of an apology, but doing so would mean fully admitting her wrongs to him, and possibly the reason for it.  She was not ready to divulge that information to anyone.  

Besides, the last chapter of her book took great pains to warn her about false impressions, and the section she just started reading reiterated the sentiment in regards to gift giving and other acts of service.  It had given her an idea to knit a warm scarf for Chrom, but since it was a skill she did not yet posses, she would have to teach herself how.  And as for Lon’qu, the last thing she wanted to do was give him the wrong notion.  

Nonetheless, it might be nice for him to know that he too would have someone waiting for him, even if that someone was just his comrade and student.  Making up her mind, she nodded to herself and weaved her way through the crowd in his direction.

“G-good morning, Lon’qu,” she hailed cordially.  She mustered a friendly grin.

He looked up from the meticulous excavation of his bag and frowned.  “Cordelia,” he acknowledged.  There was a pregnant pause before he continued.  “What are you doing here?”

She expected more of a bitter, biting edge to the question, but his tone was colored with hurt laced in subdued curiosity.  For her part, she tried to keep things light.  “Well... what kind of friend would I be if I did not bid you farewell before your big mission?”

“Hmph.”  He went back to rearranging his supplies.  “Perhaps the same kind who skips her lessons and refuses to speak to me...”  Ah, there it was.  He certainly didn't hold back the frustration that time.  

She winced and looked away, biting her lip and regretting her previous choice of words.  “I know... I’m sorry.  I've been... distracted.”

“A poor excuse,” he scoffed.  “You could at least try to fabricate a better explanation.”  He seemed to be rather vindictive this morning.

Cordelia probably deserved his indignation.  In truth, she was kind of expecting this, but wanted to downplay it for now.  Hopefully, she could diffuse his increasing temper.  “I know that we haven’t spent any time together, but well... we both have other duties, after all.  It’s really only been a week; you speak as though we haven’t seen each other at all.”  

Then her defensive instincts began to kick in.  She crossed her arms protectively, wanting very much to forget this whole thing.  A part of her even felt justified; it was his fault that she was feeling so at odds with herself.  She was perfectly happy being miserable in her unrequited love for Chrom.  She did not ask for or desire this unforeseen complication.  “And I did not know our friendship was so exclusive that I should not train or spend time with others,” she snapped.

Lon’qu swore under his breath.  He tied his pack shut aggressively and stood up, swinging it over his shoulder in one fluid motion.  “That is not the issue, and you know it,” he accused.  “You are free to do whatever you want with whoever you want.  But do not deny that you've been INTENTIONALLY avoiding me and have outright refused to return even a passing greeting.”  He glared at her, daring her to contradict him.  

Of course she could not refute his allegation, but neither would she confess her thoughts.  With no other options, she merely stared right back.

He took a few deep breaths.  Eventually, he sighed and closed his eyes despondently.  “M-maybe... maybe I _have_ been rather selfish with your time.  My only wish was to repay you for saving my life; it was never my intent to overstep my bounds.  Still, if I have some way offended you, I would rather you tell me than recoil so.  I... I would rather not lose such an important... er...  friend...”

“Oh, Lon’qu...”  She had expected some level of confusion and annoyance, but she never really thought he would assume that he was in the wrong.  It increased her guilt; she had, after all, tried to blame him instead of being more forthright.  He didn’t deserve that.  She couldn't stand to see him like this.  “No... you've done nothing wrong.  I’m truly sorry that I gave you that impression.”  Now she felt really terrible.  “And... I’m sorry... for ignoring you.”

She wasn't ready to tell him to tell him the awful truth.  She couldn't admit her hopeless and even embarrassing obsession with Chrom, or the fear she had about losing her sense of self without him.   Moreover, she herself didn't yet understand the budding feelings she was having for Lon’qu and how they fit into her love for the prince.  For that reason, as difficult as it was, they would both have to settle for a noncommittal answer for the time being.  “I... what I said was partially the truth.  I have been distracted.  I... I find myself... conflicted... around you.”  That sounded awfully familiar.

He crossed his arms, one eyebrow quirked in confusion.  “What do you mean? he asked.

Cordelia timidly curled into herself.  “I... I do not know,” she answered earnestly.  “I wish I could say; I truly do.”  She sighed again.  “But perhaps time apart will reveal the answer.  It might give us both time to step back and reflect.  So... if you can forgive my behavior and lack of honesty, I will do my best to figure it out by the time you return.”

His glare softened, but his ever serious demeanor remained.  He was searching for something in her eyes again as something like hope kindled in his.  She squirmed beneath such a passionate stare, feeling both very secure and very exposed at the same time.  She fought the dueling instincts to either hug him or run away and hide.  

“Very well,” he finally whispered, “but... only if you swear that you will speak the truth... no matter what it is.  Agreed?”

She gulped silently and nodded, cursing the blush she could feel coming on.

Seemingly satisfied, he resumed his preparations.  He reached down and picked up the two swords and the dagger he’d left lying at his feet.  He placed the Silver Sword in the sheath that was hidden on his back under the Thief cloak, and the Killing Edge and dagger were strapped on opposite sides of the belt around his waist.  

Then his brows furrowed with the look of having forgotten something.  He checked his pockets and the other hidden compartments on his person.

“Missing something?” Cordelia asked.

“I cannot find my knife,” he answered.  “I must have accidentally packed it in the convoy with the rest of my things.”

A shrill whistle echoed throughout the area.  “Time to go!  Shepherds, move out!” Robin’s voice called, waving for her team to follow her lead.

Lon’qu groaned, knowing there was no time for him to retrieve the misplaced object.  But he shrugged to himself and turned to follow his leader.  

“Lon’qu, wait!”  Thinking quickly, Cordelia reached for the knife in her boot and offered it to him.  “Here... take mine.”  She smiled and winked.  “You never know when you might need it.”

He hesitated, inquiring without speaking if it was really okay for him to borrow it.  She held it out insistently, and he accepted it with a steady hand and a partial smirk, his hand lingering on hers for just a second longer than was necessary to take the object.  He stored it in what she could only assume was a small storage space beneath his leather chest plate, on the left just over his heart.

“Be safe...” she told him earnestly.

“You as well,” he replied.  He smiled at her, somewhat sadly, and left, matching strides with Miriel as she hurried after Robin.  Gaius ran up behind him and threw an arm around his shoulders, clearly trying to annoy him for some reason.  Her last glimpse of him was his customary scowl.

“Take care,” she whispered, hands folded in prayer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	11. No Retreat, No Surrender

_**Chapter Ten: No Retreat, No Surrender** \- By now, you should have your man well within your clutches, but some can be unusually stubborn or clueless, or disillusioned by the spell of another.  You must never give up!  You've come this far; turning back now would be a waste of all the sorrow you've endured from an unrequited love and all the work you've put in.  Until he says “I Do”, there is always hope.  So keep the claws out, girls!  Dig ‘em into your man and never let go!_

Cordelia had assured Lon’qu that she would try to understand her heart better by the time he returned, but it wasn't going well.  With he and Robin both gone for a while, her diminishing feelings for Chrom suddenly returned with a vengeance, but there was a bitter-sweetness to them now.  In order to get a better handle on things, she elected to make one last ditch effort to try to win Chrom’s affections.  She had even unintentionally gotten advice from Gregor, who adamantly claimed that love and war could be won in the same manner via surprise attacks and a refusal to surrender.  His counsel was questionable and had, without fail, ended with her on the sore ears end of an angry lecture from her commander (though at least he noticed her).  

Just a little while ago, however, Gregor pulled her aside and presented her with a dress he had made especially for her.  It was very similar to her original pegasus knight attire, minus the armor, but it was far more elegant and the skirt was a little longer to compensate for the lack of her high boots.  He then applied just a touch of makeup and sent her off to woo her love.  She certainly looked beautiful, but considering the disastrous results of all her other attempts, she didn't quite feel as confident as she outwardly displayed.  And this could be a burgeoning letdown as well, since she couldn't even FIND Chrom.  Of course, she would likely have an easier job of it if she walked out in the open, instead of sneaking around to avoid the inevitable wolf whistles from the more immature male Shepherds.  

In spite of what Gregor and her book told her, the Dark Flier promised herself that this was the last straw.  If Chrom did not respond to her this time, she would no longer entertain hope that he would ever love her the way she loved him.  It didn't mean that she knew what to do about Lon’qu, but it was a good first step, and she still had a few days before the Shepherds reunited.

There he was... she finally found him laying on the ground outside of Lissa’s tent, arms pillowing his head as he viewed the evening sky.  The princess was sitting next to him and working on some kind of needlework.  She was smiling and doing the majority of the talking; Chrom looked contemplative.  

She hesitated, unsure of what she should do with Lissa in the mix.  She was the sweetest girl in the world, but she also spoke her mind a little too freely.  

“Whoo-hoo!  Looking good, Cordelia!”  

Like that, for example.  She halted and flushed heavily, unclear on how to proceed.  She shook even further when Chrom sat up and waved to her, smiling.

“Hello there.  You look nice.  Is there something going on that I should know about?” he inquired.

Perfect!  He’d complimented her AND offered a decent opening to start a dialogue.  Cordelia gulped and stepped out of the shadows, hoping to somehow either drop a hint for Lissa to excuse herself or get him to come with her so she could talk to him alone.  “G-good evening, milord... milady.  Er... how are you?”

The blond Valkyrie continued to grin excitedly.  “Great!  Wanna see what I’m working on?”  She held up her project proudly, displaying the near completed cat she was stitching, and continued without waiting for a response.  “Needlework.  It’s going to be an engagement present.”

Cordelia’s heart almost stopped.  “En-engagement?  For who?” she whispered.

“Gaius,” Chrom interjected, smirking slightly with a charming roll of the eyes and a defeated sigh.  “She’s going to propose to him when he gets back with the others.”

She sighed in relief.  “Really?  Well then, let me be the first to say ‘Congratulations’, milady.”

Lissa giggled and blushed.  “Hey, thanks!  What about you?  Are you off to get a date?  I’ll bet he’ll say yes; he’d be an idiot not to with you looking so gorgeous,” she rattled on.

“Oh... w-well...”  Her eyes strayed to Chrom, who simply gazed right back at her with an oblivious smile.  She twitched anxiously and bit her lip.  “T-the truth is... you see... um... mil-”

“-ORD!!  MILORD!!”  

All three of them jumped a little when Kellam appeared out of nowhere, running towards them while waving his arms and shouting at the top of his lungs.  Once he was close enough, he bent over to support himself with his hands on his knees, breathing hard from exertion and the weight of his General armor.

Cordelia could have screamed at yet ANOTHER inopportune interruption, but immediately clammed up.  Something in his inconspicuous countenance was both somber and apprehensive.

“Wow, where’s the fire, Kellam?”  Lissa asked.

“...wanted _*pant*_ to make sure _*pant*_ you’d see me, “ he wheezed.  

“Well, you certainly have our attention now,” Chrom said.  “What is it?”

He straightened, and only then did they see the grave expression on his unassuming face.  “Frederick sent me to tell you... we've received communication from Robin.  They’re on their way... they have wounded and they need help.”

Both Chrom and Lissa sprang to their feet.  “What happened?  Is she alright?”

“What about the others?” demanded the Valkyrie.

“We don’t have all the details yet.  Frederick got the message that they were close and under attack by Risen.  He gathered the fastest and most mobile Shepherds available to meet them.  He sent me to inform you and help rally the healers.”

The future king turned to his sibling.  “Lissa..”

She tossed her needlework in her tent and nodded, eyes narrowed in grim determination.  “Right.  Let’s go.”  They ran off towards the Healer’s Station, Cordelia and Kellam close on their heels.

“I don’t understand,” Lissa mused, thinking aloud.  “We weren't expecting them for three more days.  How did they get back so fast?”  No one offered a guess.

The four of them reached their destination amidst the chaos of clerics, priests, and sages hurrying back and forth to the convoy with staves, potions, bandages, and spare clothes, preparing for the arrival of Robin’s unit.  Lissa immediately joined them.  Libra, who had taken command of the medics, asked her to assist him in setting up cots and organizing the supplies.

Chrom, Cordelia, and Kellam all wanted to help, but knew it would be better if they simply stayed out of the way for now.  Instead, they waited on the sidelines, so to speak, and kept an eye out for Frederick and the others (Cordelia also kept a worried eye on Chrom).  The medical tent was located relatively near the entrance of the encampment for just such a situation, allowing wounded units easy access to treatment.  

In a short amount of time, the increased commotion began to garner the attention of others.  

“Oy, why such noise?  Gregor is having the difficulty sleeping,” the older man complained, yawning.

Donnel came up behind him, scratching his scalp beneath the ever-present copper pot.  “What in tarnation...?”  

“It’s Robin and the others,” Kellam told them.  The color drained from their faces as he filled them in on what little they knew.  While he was speaking, even more people showed up, forcing him to repeat everything multiple times.

“Maribelle... please be alright,” Donnel whispered.  Olivia, who was now standing next to him, put a comforting arm around his shoulder.  

“Gregor knew little bunny should not have gone,” he shouted angrily, kicking at the ground.

Cordelia turned to them.  “Let’s not get too worked up just yet,” she advised.  “It may not be as serious as we think.  The best thing right now is to remain calm, and trust the clerics to do their job.  We must also be ready to assist in any way that we can.  Agreed?”

There were nods all around, but she appreciated that it was going to be very difficult.  She understood the feeling of helplessness that came from being unable to save or at least help a loved one in need.  And she was just as troubled as them; they were her friends too.  Furthermore, in spite of her previous decision to focus only on Chrom tonight, she could not prevent herself from picturing Lon’qu, desperately hoping that he was alright.

“Hey, over there!” Vaike cried, pointing to the sky.  They followed his line of sight, hearts uplifting as the white wings of a Pegasus came into view.  Within moments, the flying mount drew near and descended, landing delicately a few yards away from the crowd and the entrance to the medical tent.  It was Caeda bearing Sumia and a soaking wet Trickster.  

“Gaius!”  Both Lissa and Libra ran over and helped him down from the steed’s back, simultaneously supporting and examining him.

“He’s ice cold,” the War Monk observed aloud, frowning.  He took the bandit’s face in his hands, checking his eyes for clarity to ascertain his level of comprehension.  “Let’s get him out of these clothes.”  The two of them threaded their arms under his shoulders on opposite sides, acting as crutches as he hobbled towards the tent.

Gaius laughed deliriously.  “W-w-wow, p-padre, you m-m-move f-f-f-fast.  Sh-shouldn't you b-b-buy me a d-drink first?  Or at least m-m-maybe s-some c-c-c-c-cupcakes?

“Hurry!”  The three of them vanished into the station, but it wasn't long before Libra reappeared and approached the anxious crowd.  “Hypothermia,” he explained to Chrom.  “In addition to other injuries.  From what little I could gather from Gaius, the others have fared the same.  We’ll need a steady supply of hot fluids and every extra blanket that can be spared.”

“I can go reheat the soup from tonight’s dinner,” Olivia volunteered shyly.    

“Boil some water as well,” he answered with an approving nod.

“I can help,” Kellam offered.  He and the dancer rushed off to procure the requested liquids.

Nowi raised her hand enthusiastically from the background.  “I’ll go around and ask everyone for the blankets.  Vaike, wanna come too?”

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” he pointed out, following her lead.

Satisfied for the time being, Libra moved to return to his duties while awaiting the others, pausing briefly to question Sumia.

Once the Pegasus Knight had finished updating their lead medic, she dismounted and jogged over to the remaining Shepherds.  “Captain!”

“Sumia!  Where are the others?” Chrom demanded.  

“They should be right behind me,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder.  Everyone else crowded around and bombarded her with questions.

“Is Robin okay?”

“How’s Maribelle?”

“Are they all drenched like that?”

“Is Panne hurt?”

“What about Miriel?”

Sumia backed away in a panic.  Cordelia had questions too, but no one was going to get answers this way.  She pushed her way through and stood guard in front of her childhood friend, holding her arms out protectively to ward them off.  “Hey, HEY!  Everyone back off and take a deep breath!” she screamed.  She felt a grateful hand touch her arm as the everyone reacted accordingly.  “That’s better.  She said they’re coming, so let’s all just settle down and hear what she has to say.”

The frustrated Shepherds refocused their attention on the distant field while Sumia hugged Cordelia.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

The redhead smiled, parting her lips to say something, but stopped when a strong hand rested on her shoulder.  She looked up to face the source and blushed, stiffening when she met the gentle blue-eyed stare of Chrom.

He said nothing.  He merely gave a small supportive smile.  Then he too turned his gaze to the horizon.

The air was thick with tension as everyone loitered impatiently, most of them fidgeting.  They listened more quietly while Sumia gave her report.  The S.O.S. had come from an Einherjar that had been revived to aid Robin’s unit.  It had been sent ahead at full speed to summon aid.  Everyone else remained behind, both out of an inability to go any further and to battle the Risen that had appeared.

By the time Frederick’s team arrived, they had been backed into a corner, preparing for what was nearly a last stand.  Four of them were fully conscious, but they had nearly lost both the will and capability to fight any longer.  A moment more, and only bodies would have remained.

Sumia did not know the extent of everyone’s injuries.  They were all wet and chilled, having just escaped the raging rapids of a massive river that flowed down from the mountain.  It was part of the reason they had arrived sooner than expected; the current had carried them far, though it likewise almost claimed their lives.

Of the four who were awake, Gaius had been the only one strong enough to endure riding a Pegasus, which was why they were the first to return.  Most of the others required more care.  For the most part, their rescuers would have to fully support them on their rides.

She had just concluded her tale when the thunderous stampede of hooves shook the ground and its source came into view.  Stahl, Virion, and Sully charged in, checking their horses and calling for the healers.  A moment later and Frederick’s blue-armored horse appeared as well, but it carried Panne alone.

Libra re-emerged, several young priests and clerics trailing him and awaiting orders.  He directed one to relieve Virion of the comatose Maribelle resting in his arms, while two others eased Miriel from Stahl’s mount.  Another assisted Panne.   Finally, he and another War Monk very carefully removed a lifeless Lon’qu from Sully, and together carried him inside.

Cordelia took a sharp intake of breath, ruby eyes widening as she caught a glimpse of her severely injured partner and teacher.  There was little that she could deduce from such a short glance.  She did notice by his garb that he had in fact promoted to the Assassin class.  But his sparse armor was broken and torn, and much of his exposed skin was covered with crude and bloody bandages. She immediately feared the worst. 

Her entire frame froze.  Though her mind screamed it, she was unable to call his name out loud, for even her voice became paralyzed with dread .  Eventually, her knees gave way and she sat on the ground, eyes drifting shut as she wordlessly prayed, “Oh Naga, please let him be okay...”  She folded her hands over her heart and repeated the phrase over and over in her mind, only partially aware of Sumia kneeling beside her and asking if she was alright.

Unbidden and unbeknownst to her, hot tears escaped her lids and rolled down her pale cheeks, even as a despairing frost settled in her chest.  Regardless of the baffling war of emotions that was still simmering in her soul, Lon’qu was still, and always would be, a friend.  She owed him so much, cared for him deeply.  She did not want him to die.  She had lost too many of her precious people already, and the thought of losing him in particular was unbearable.

She was somewhat oblivious to the rush of activity continuing around her.  She chose instead to concentrate on her silent pleas to the divine.  Yet as always, Chrom’s voice broke through.

“Robin... where’s Robin?” he questioned the recent arrivals.

“On the way,” Sully told him.  “Damn stubborn woman wouldn't let anyone help her until the others were taken care of.  Frederick’s with her though.”

Again, they waited.  In the meantime, Nowi in dragon form arrived, her massive body loaded down with the requested blankets.  Kellam seemed to magically appear with two large cooking pots full of steaming liquid.  Surprisingly, Tharja was later summoned and allowed entry into the medical tent; all others were turned away in spite of their desperate petitions to see their loved ones.

Cordelia paused her prayers and resumed her study of Chrom.  She habitually wondered if there was anything she could do to ease his mind, since hers could not be sated, and completing tasks always helped her cope in situations such as this.  By now, he was pacing back and forth, one hand gripping the hilt of Falchion at his waist and the other clenched into a tight fist at his side.  His eyes shifted between the tent and the dark distance; he was worried about all of his comrades, but the majority of his uneasiness was centered around his tactician.

After what felt like an eternity, one final silhouette came into view, running at an impressive, yet calculated speed.  Sumia stood up and waved to her fiance, alerting everyone else of his approach.  They all rose to their feet and watched as Frederick jogged into the light of the encampment.  He halted in the center of the area, turning his head to speak to Robin, whom he was carrying piggy-back.

Chrom rushed over.  “Robin!”

Hearing her name, the tactician-Assassin lifted her head from Frederick’s shoulder and opened her eyes, her expression sorrowful and exhausted.  Very carefully, the Great Knight set her down, but her steps faltered and she stumbled.  Chrom was immediately at her side, and he braced her before she fell.  She cried out in pain when he accidentally bumped her sword arm, but that did not prevent him from wrapping his arms around her in relief, if only for a moment.

Cordelia observed them at a distance, unable to hear what they were saying.  She didn't need to.  The way he looked at her, the inflection of his voice when he said her name, and the way he held her said enough.  She recognized it at once, for it was the same manner in which she herself had constantly regarded her commander.  She now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the man she most admired, the man she had been in love with for longer than she could remember, was completely in love with Robin. 

In that one moment, all else faded away.  She imagined a great chasm between herself and Chrom.  He had always been so high above her, so very far away.  She had thought that little by little, she’d been bridging the gap.  With every task, every battle, every deed, she hoped to climb her way up, never ceasing, until they stood as equals and her love was returned.  

But it had all been for naught.  In actuality, she had done little more than run in place.  Nothing she did ever brought them closer.  She could scream his name, and he would never hear her.  She could sacrifice anything and everything for his sake, and it would not touch his heart.  He was, now and forever, wholly beyond her reach.  He had never been hers to possess, and he never would be.  

In light of this revelation, the state of her wounded comrades and the gravity of the current situation was lost on Cordelia.  Perhaps it was selfish of her, but for once, she didn’t care.  Her heart was shattered, and she forgot all else, including her previous fears for Lon’qu.  She stood slowly, unnoticed by everyone else, and silently trudged back to her own tent, somehow at once both numb and distraught.  Once she was within the confines of her private quarters, she laid down on her bed roll and burrowed under the blankets.  She stared off into the darkness for a while, trying not to think about anything, desiring sleep to claim her as quickly as possible.

But it did not, and she could not keep her mind clear.  She sniffed once... twice.  She hugged her pillow and began to cry.  The most prominent theme in her broken heart was a sense of surrender.

_‘Chrom is in love with Robin.  He does not love me.  He will never love me.  It’s over...”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	12. In Sickness and In Health

_**Chapter Eleven: In Sickness and in Health** \- Your man no doubt enjoys your intoxicating presence, but he is still likely to have doubts in some areas.  For there will come a day when the man you love will experience illness or injury.  Be available to take care of and/or assist him during these times.  Make it very clear by your actions that not only are you ready for the long haul, but you are committed to him regardless of what trials  life throws his way._

Cordelia sat on the ground beside Robin’s cot, sighing quietly as she took in her friend’s appearance.  Except for the dark bruises along her jawline, she was deathly pale.  Multiple, thick blankets were tucked in around her body so that only her face was exposed.  She knew that beneath them was plethora of other wounds, including a heavily bandaged shoulder, now reset and anchored in place to aid the healing process.

She wasn't actually supposed to be here; as concerned as everyone was, Libra and the other medics insisted that the sick and injured unit needed rest above all else and should not be disturbed.  The War Monk had only allowed her entry because she had no intention of waking Robin, or any of the others.  She just needed to get something off her chest, but thought it might be better for both of them if she didn't actually hear her.  

Cordelia closed her eyes and tried to smile.  “Robin...” she began, but paused, wondering how to proceed.  She shook her head. 

“I guess the first thing I should tell you is that I’m glad you are okay.  And not just you; the rumor going around camp is that you did everything in your power to protect your team and bring them home alive.  And even though they still have a long way towards recovery, they WILL make it... thanks to you.  You kept your promise to me.”

She exhaled dejectedly and tugged at her skirt, looking at her lap.  “Robin... the real reason I’m here is to... I... um, well... it’s about Chrom.”  She chuckled bitterly.  “You should know... he’s worried about you.  You should have seen how distressed he was when he heard you scream... you know, when the clerics reset your dislocated shoulder.  He cannot stand to see you in pain, because he cares about you... because he is in love with you.”

Cordelia closed her eyes to try to prevent herself from crying, sighing once again.  “He loves you so much.  I expect he’ll propose to you once you’re feeling better.”  Then she opened her eyes and allowed the tears to come.  “It’s... it’s difficult.  I want to be happy for you, for both of you; I do.  And maybe deep inside, some part of me is.  After all you've done for us, you deserve it... probably more than anyone.  And yet...”  She returned her gaze to the tactician’s face.  “It’s not fair.  I’ve been in love with him for so long.  I think I've always known that it wasn't meant to be, but I hoped... And then you show up and...”  Her breath hitched and the tears came harder and faster.  “It hurts, more than I thought it would.  And I want to blame you; I almost want to _hate_ you, but... But I don’t.  I truly don’t.”  

She choked and hugged herself, rocking a little on her heels.  “Still, I cannot help but compare myself to you... and wonder what it is that I am missing.  What is so wrong with me that Chrom... what am I lacking that he would hold it against me, that he should refuse to glance my way for even a moment?   _Why_ doesn't he love me?”

She was falling into hysterics, wallowing in self-pity.  She loathed herself for it; she found it repulsive in others, and even more so when she recognized it in her own reflection.  She breathed deeply and composed herself, wiping her eyes shamefully.  She came to a decision then, the only one available to her.  “I’m sorry.  I truly am.  I just... I needed to talk it out, and pretend that someone was listening, for I do not have the courage to confess such things otherwise, especially to you.  But I promise... I will, once and for all, rid myself of these foolish fantasies.”  She smiled again, sadly but sincerely.  She reached over and stroked Robin’s cold cheek with the back of her knuckles affectionately.  “I wish you and Chrom all the happiness in the world.  I will swallow my pain, and my love... and I will serve you both faithfully, always.”

She didn't feel any better, not really, but she had said her piece, given her speech of surrender.  There was nothing left for it but to allow time to apply its slow, healing salve to her wounded heart.

Cordelia stood up and bowed to her future queen.  She watched her a moment more, wordlessly praying for a full and speedy revival.  Then she headed towards the exit, but stopped when a flash of movement caught her eye.  

It was Libra, checking in on his other patients.  He had been here the whole time, but had kindly pretended not to notice her outbursts or interrupt her private “conversation” with Robin.  She watched as he readjusted Maribelle’s blankets; she had kicked them off during fits of restless sleep.  He refilled an empty cup of water and set it on the ground next to Panne within reaching distance.  He also used a Mend staff on Gaius, bathing the room temporarily in a soft green glow, expediting the healing process.

Finally, he paused beside a squirming Lon’qu, checking his temperature.  Of the entire unit, he had suffered the most life threatening injuries and had come closest to death.  The War Monk’s eyes looked troubled as he fetched a bucket, setting it down nearby.  He then poured some ice water in a bowl and knelt beside the Assassin.

Cordelia hadn't given much thought to him, or any of the others.  She’d been so wrapped up in her own problems that she had almost completely forgotten about them.  The shame of it disgusted her, and she immediately resolved to rectify it.

She stepped lightly over to Libra, who was using a washcloth to cool Lon’qu’s fevered head.  “How is he?” she whispered once she was close enough, standing on the other side of her partner.  She looked him over, observing his disturbed slumber and sweaty hairline with worry.

Libra tried to reassure her with a half smile, but it was hesitant.  “He is very strong.  Lesser men would have embraced death by now,” he answered ambiguously.

“Were his wounds so grievous that they are beyond even the power of an Elixir  to heal?” she asked.

The holy man moistened the cloth in the bowl of water.  “His injuries were VERY serious, but they are on the mend.  It is the poison that most concerns me.”   

Cordelia knelt down as well, sitting seiza.  “Poison?” she inquired.  She hadn't heard anything about that before, though it was likely she simply missed it during her preoccupation.  

He nodded, again tapping the wet towel to random points on Lon’qu’s face.  “Yes.  Except for Robin and Panne, they were all infected with a cursed substance.  Tharja managed to concoct something of an antidote, but it was not fully effective.  It merely prevented the poison from spreading any further.  She was required to devise a unique hex to contain it in the digestive system.  From there, their bodies must fight it and expel it on its own.  In doing so, it has slowed their overall restoration and made them very ill.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the nearby Sages.  “But all is not lost, yet.  Both Maribelle and Miriel have already reacted accordingly and are getting better, as is Gaius.  As for Lon’qu, he now has a fever.  While not usually a good thing, it is a sign that he is combating the toxin.  The same thing happened to the others as well.  If all goes well, he should soon waken...”

“And then what?”

Libra gestured to the nearby bucket.  “And then he’ll vomit, hopefully ejecting the poison.”

The Dark Flier grimaced.  “How awful,” she mumbled, gagging at the mere thought.  Being stomach sick was never fun by any means, but to have to induce it for medical purposes must be doubly horrid.

“True, but necessary,” he replied.  His countenance sobered once more.  “But... as I’ve said, his wounds were nearly fatal.  I fear they will reopen if we are not careful.”

Cordelia gazed down at Lon’qu with pity, feeling utterly helpless and wishing there was something she could do to ease his pain.

As though reading her mind, Libra smiled at her.  “Cordelia, might I trouble you to stay and lend a hand?”

Her eyes widened  in surprise.  “Really?  But what could I possibly do to help?  I am not a cleric.”

“No,” the monk agreed with a little chuckle.  “However, you are a friend.  I know that watching another in such a state as this is not pleasant, but I am certain that your presence will comfort him.  I did allow Donnel and Ricken to be here when their loved ones needed them.  Lon’qu does not have the same luxury.  But as his comrade, at least, he may yet draw strength from you.”

“I...” Cordelia hesitated.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to.  She did, very much.  It was simply that she did not feel ready to face him just yet, after recent events.  It was selfish and stupid, she thought, but it did give her pause all the same.

“It’s alright.  You’d needn’t if it makes you uncomfortable.  I can summon Olivia instead.  She and Lon’qu have some history and are relatively close.  I’m sure that she would be happy to oblige...”

“NO!  I mean...” She turned red, ashamed and uncertain of her outburst.  “I-it’s okay.  I’ll do it,” she mumbled.

She could swear that he was smirking when he said, “Very well.”  He gave her the damp cloth and passed the bowl of cold water.  “Then I will inform my wife that her assistance will not be required.  If you will excuse me for just a moment...” He stood up and strode gracefully towards the exit.

Cordelia sputtered, nearly dropping the water on her partner.  “Wait... your wife?  Do you mean Olivia?  You two are married?”

His only response was a sheepish grin and a light blush of his own.  Then he disappeared to the outside, leaving her dumbstruck.

 _‘That sneaky... was he trying to make me jealous?’_  she wondered.  She wasn't sure what startled her more: learning that the pious priest had a devious side, the fact that he and Olivia were apparently married, or that she had indeed felt a spark of envy at the thought of another woman tending to her stricken friend.  

Yes... friend... for that was all that he was.  Her heart was too injured and defensive to consider anything else.

“Ng...”

Cordelia gasped, nearly forgetting her purpose.  She carefully set the water bowl on the ground beside her and moistened the hand towel.  She wrung it out and began lightly dabbing Lon’qu’s heated brow, her initial shy flush at doing so fading to compassionate worry.

He was really burning up.  After wrapping him snugly to combat hypothermia, some of his blankets had now been removed to cool his increasing temperature.  The dark blue robe he’d been dressed in was hanging a bit loose, allowing her to see that most of his chest was wrapped in heavy bandages, some of which needed to be changed.  And from the agitated way he was tossing and turning, he was either in pain or having a nightmare.

“Shh... it’s okay.  I’m  here,” she told him softly, hoping that he could hear her.  She continued to wipe his face, re-wetting the cloth as needed.  He unconsciously leaned in to her touch, calming a little.

Libra returned shortly and monitored her efforts for a moment.  “I’m going to check on Robin for a bit,” he informed her.  “Call me over if he shows signs of waking.”

Cordelia hummed in acknowledgment.  When he walked away, she glanced over her shoulder, verifying that he was indeed preoccupied with the tactician.  Seeing that he was, she turned back and bit her lip, debating with herself.  She kept the cloth pressed to Lon’qu’s far cheek, moving his head so she could see his face better.  Her other hand hovered over his forehead briefly.  Eventually, she let herself brush back the brown locks that were sticking to his skin, running her hands soothingly through his damp hair a few times.  

She was about to pull her hand away, but was startled when it was suddenly held tightly by bandaged fingers.  “Lon’qu?” she said, trying not to blush and wondering how he managed to move so fast in his current state.  “Lon’qu, can you hear me?”

His breathing was ragged and weak.  His fingers squeezed hers, but his deep brown eyes remained clenched shut.   When he finally did open them, they were hazy and unfocused.

“Lon’qu...”  Remembering her instructions, she twisted around.  “Libra, he’s coming to.”  Then she leaned in to meet her friend’s cloudy gaze.  “It’s alright, Lon’qu.  I’m right here,” she repeated.

She froze when he let go of her hand and reached up to touch her face, cupping her cheek instead.  “Ke... ‘ri....” he moaned.

Cordelia forced herself to get over her shock and embarrassment and lightly gripped the wrist by her neck.  “Lon’qu?”

Even now, he didn't seem to comprehend where he was or to whom he was speaking.  There was anguish in his face and tears gathered in his eyes, mixing with the fever-induced sweat.  “Ke’ri,” he said again.  “I’m sorry.  I’m... I’m so sorry, Ke’ri.”

Before she could ask who or what he was talking about, Libra came around to the other side, scrutinizing him.  “Lon’qu, do you hear me?” he inquired as well.  “Do you know where you are?”

The wounded Assassin followed the voice and shifted his head to face him, looking confused.  He did not answer though; he must have moved too quickly and triggered the stomach sickness.  His face blanched and he started gagging.

Libra lunged for the bucket.  “Here we go.  Let’s get him up!” he warned.  He set the pail in Lon’qu’s lap as both of them gently but swiftly braced his upper body and pulled him into a sitting position.

Even in a delusional state, he knew what to do.  He hugged the bucket and curled over it.  He began retching, his whole body shaking from the exertion.

Libra set one hand on the pail to help hold it, while the other was firmly on his shoulder to make sure he didn't move too much.  Cordelia did the same on the other side, keeping one arm steady around his upper arm and shoulder, but she used her free hand to rub his back in a way that she hoped was reassuring.  She turned her face a little to try and filter out the foul smell of bile and what she presumed was the poison, resting her head against his upper back.

Lon’qu threw up for the better part of the next hour, stopping at random intervals when his stomach settled and to catch his breath.  During each respite, he would lay back down.  Libra took the pail and emptied its contents outside somewhere while Cordelia went back to cooling his head, occasionally rubbing his belly in circular motions as well.  When the War Monk returned, he would coax his patient into taking a few sips of water to re-hydrate, and then the cycle would repeat again.  Eventually, the outbursts grew less frequent and labored, and he appeared to be drifting back to sleep.

“Looks like he’s over the worst of it,” Libra mumbled.  He re-checked his temperature and examined the covered wounds.  “But I’m going to have to change his dressings.”  He smiled at his assistant.  “Thank you for your help.  I am certain that Lon’qu appreciates it as well.”

Cordelia assumed that the thanks doubled as a dismissal, but she didn't move just yet.  She simply continued her ministrations, stroking Lon’qu’s hair absently while wiping away the last traces of sweat from his pale face.  Libra stood and went to gather fresh wrappings, a staff, and some balm for the wounds.

He was breathing much easier now, and he wasn't squirming around so much.  She supposed it would be wise to leave and let him rest, but something stopped her.  For some reason, it felt like fear anchoring her there.  Fear of what, she didn't know.  Perhaps it was the notion that if she left now, she might return only to find him gone, succumbing to death in the night.  Or that he might think less of her if she left him alone when he needed her, knowing quite well how much pain isolation could inflict.

Then again, maybe it was something else entirely, something she refused to recognize or name.

Before she could make up her mind, a raspy voice murmured, “Cordelia...”

“Hmm?”  She almost didn't realize that it was Lon’qu who had spoken, or that his voice was less manic.  She inclined closer so that he wouldn't have to strain his throat to talk, noting with relief that his tired eyes seemed clearer than before, and he recognized her.  “It’s okay, Lon’qu.  Everything’s going to be alright.  Libra will change your bandages and give you something if you’re in pain.  For now, try to get some rest, okay?”

He gazed at her pleadingly, fighting to stay awake, as though he too was afraid of something.  “Stay?” he mumbled, conserving his energy by using fewer words.

“Oh... I...” She bit her lip and blushed, withdrawing her hands from his face nervously.  She certainly wanted to, but it might not be the best thing for him, or for her.  “You need to rest,” she reiterated, shaking her head against her own wishes.  

He shifted a bit, so that he could reach out to her.  She instinctively took his hand in both of hers without thought.  “Please... please stay...” he implored, eyes boring into hers.

Her heart ached to see him like this.  He was always so strong, so self assured, save for the issue with women.  He did not reveal any vulnerability willingly or easily, and probably would not now if he was in his right state of mind.  Nonetheless, pride and even joy stirred within her at the idea that any version of Lon’qu would trust her enough to request her help and presence while he was weak.

Cordelia smiled and squeezed his hand.  “As you wish.  If you promise to rest and relax, I will stay by your side until you fall asleep.  Agreed?”

His chapped lips quirked upward for a fraction of a second, and he nodded slowly.

Feeling emboldened, she resumed running her fingers through his hair, even going so far as to start humming softly.

He stared at her blearily, his expression unreadable for the most part, but he did not resist or pull away.  He just blinked slowly, eyes gradually falling shut at her touch.  “Cordelia...” he slurred, on the verge of sleep.  “Thank you...”

A pleasant warmth settled in her chest, partially making its way up to her cheeks.  “You are most welcome, Lon’qu.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	13. Open Ears; Open Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Chapter Fanart by Storm Studio](http://sta.sh/0nuwjxan9cs)

_**Chapter Twelve: Open Ears; Open Heart** \- Men don’t easily disclose a painful past or weighty matters of the heart.  But if you have been diligent in following the instructions of this manual, you should at last have his full trust.  Now is the time that he will begin to speak to you of his personal affairs, revealing his dreams, desires, fears, and memories.  Listen with an open mind and an open heart.  Do nothing to “fix” him.  He wants a friend and lover, not a solution._

For the next two days, the Shepherds remained where they were, still within territory governed by the Khans of Regna Ferox, but close enough to make it back to Ylisstol in about a day’s march.  The medics had insisted that Robin’s injured squad recuperate as much as circumstances would allow before moving on again.

Most of them were doing pretty well the second morning after their return.  Those who were poisoned still had bouts of nausea and were malnourished, but they persevered with the aid of their friends and/or significant others, and were discharged with instructions to take it easy and return for follow-ups.  Lon’qu and Robin yet required the most care, but physically both were getting better.  At least, that’s what everyone was told.  None besides Chrom and the healers had been allowed to see them, so their status was all hearsay at best.  When the primary danger had passed, both had been carefully relocated to private tents, positioned close to the Healer’s station, but allowing for a more comfortable atmosphere for rest.  They were tended round-the-clock by priests and clerics on a rotation.  

Cordelia, like everyone else, wanted to learn exactly what happened to the unit on their mission, as well how the two Assassins were faring.  It seemed that most of the team could only recall bits and pieces of the last few days, for the poison they’d been infected with induced hallucinations that made it difficult to know the truth.  Only Panne and Robin had somehow escaped the toxin.  As the tactician was still incapacitated, that left only the Taguel, and she was not forthcoming with anyone aside from their commander and her husband, Gregor.

As much as she desired information, Cordelia knew that it would be best if she avoided Chrom unless it was absolutely necessary.  With little else to complete outside of her usual chores, duties, and training, she committed herself to do whatever she could to help Lon’qu recover.  It wasn't easy; Libra hadn't allowed her to see him since the night she assisted during his first major ordeal.  She did, however, prepare a pot of cabbage stew and passed it along to the priests who were keeping watch over him.  She also took it upon herself to repair his weapons and armor, as well as wash and mend his clothes.  Keeping herself busy was therapeutic for her, and hopefully eased her friend’s burden as well.

Unfortunately, certain times, like now for instance, the black hours of the morning that should be spent sleeping, had become a wearisome battle.  It was during these sparse moments that when she wasn't still mourning her love for the prince, she almost always continued to think about Lon’qu instead, specifically his odd delusional ramblings.  He had mistakenly called her “Ke’ri”, and profusely apologized for something that seemed to fill him with deep regret.  Who was she (for the name was most definitely feminine) and what was her relationship with him?  Was she a sister?  Comrade?  Friend?  Lover?  At the very least, she could assume that this Ke’ri was a woman he did not fear, if his lack of physical restraint was any indication. 

She rolled over onto her back and stared up into the darkness, replaying the unsettling scene in her mind.  She was also wondering... for what reason did he feel the need to express such remorse?  She had never seen him cry before, nor did she ever imagine that she would.  But in that brief moment, his eyes were filled with such agony, and it didn't seem to be because of his wounds.  Surely he hadn't done something to intentionally harm Ke’ri; he was probably the most protective person she knew, at least when it came to battle situations.  

Cordelia groaned internally, frustrated and exhausted with all the questions and swinging emotions.  Perhaps a quiet walk around camp might placate her restless mind.  She threw aside her blankets and stood silently, so as not to wake Sumia.  She dressed in the tunic portion of her Dark Flier uniform, but left off the small pieces of armor and her customary wing-shaped hair clips.  This left her a little more exposed than normal, but she wasn't likely to run into anyone whose opinion mattered anymore.  Feeling no need to take a weapon since she did not intend to leave the safety of the Shepherds’ encampment, she tip-toed out of the tent after checking to make sure her roommate was still asleep.

Once outside, she stretched leisurely and yawned.  She habitually ran her fingers through her hair a few times to ensure that that it wasn't too tangled, and then headed out.  She had no particular destination or agenda in mind, she simply hoped to clear her head and maybe wear herself out enough to get in a few more hours of sleep.  She passed a few guards on patrol as she went, but as expected, no one else was around and none of them addressed her.

The air was serenely still, but a little chilly.  Cordelia rubbed her arms and watched her breath come out in tiny white puffs of cold air in fascination.  A fresh sprinkling of frosted dew crunched beneath her boots, and a blanket of stars twinkled like diamonds over her head.  She stopped and tilted her head back, marveling at how clear and bright they were here at the borders of Regna Ferox.  As a pegasus knight, she had become accustomed to looking down upon the world below when she Catria soared through the skies.  Wind and clouds, sunlight and starlight... she had always felt one with the sky, as omnipresent as the very air she breathed.  It had been a long time since she herself felt a part of the earth, and suddenly she felt small in comparison to the great vastness above.  

Perhaps that was a part of the reason she was having so many difficulties in mind and soul.  She wasn’t grounded; she could ride the winds, but she could not find purchase or weather them when they became too strong for her.  They simply blew her away, for there was little to anchor her.

It was reflected in the same way with her relationships.  She had friends among the Shepherds of Ylisse, people she cared about and would gladly give her life for.  But she did not share her heart with them.  Instead, she kept it out of reach, like the stars.  Her time on the ground was spent cultivating perfection, in body... in strength... in her environment; she kept herself too busy to really open up.  Her due diligence was inspiring to others, she was told, but it created a barrier between them.  She did not consider herself better than others; on the contrary, she thought herself dull and unworthy, more invisible than Kellam claimed to be.  She felt that her only real talents lay on the battlefield, little more, and so she only allowed others to see the warrior.  Very few, if any, saw the woman.  It was no wonder Chrom didn't love her.

Cordelia felt the cloak of loneliness envelope her in its embrace, numbing her mind with its promise of protection against the sorrows of broken hearts and unrequited love.  She sighed and turned her eyes to the ground, resuming her walk.

After completing one lap around the entire encampment, she heard a noise that hadn’t been there the first time she passed through.  It was the cackle of a campfire.  While Robin and Chrom usually took charge of organizing the placement of individual tents and common areas, Frederick was the one who determined where fires were allotted.  He dug larger pits in front of the mess tent, War Room, and medic tent, and then allowed smaller ones to be shared among the troops in groupings.  Although the pit was big enough for a considerable flame, the fire she was beginning to approach in front of the Healer’s Station was small, enough for two or three people at most to gather around.  A lone figure draped in a blanket was seated on the ground in front of it.

Cordelia thought about turning around to go back the way she came; she was not really in the mood to converse with anyone.  But when she squinted her eyes to try and identify the individual, she noted that the person was tall and possessed of a familiar mop of dark brown hair.  

“Lon’qu?” she mumbled out loud to herself.  Certain that it was, she immediately changed her mind and broke into a run.  “Lon’qu!”

The myrmidon-turned-Assassin was sitting crossed-legged as close to the warmth as possible, hands casually folded in his lap while gazing at the dancing golden flames.  He was likewise dressed in his current class’s attire, minus the armor, gloves, and cape.  Upon hearing the noise of her movement and the shout of his name, he looked up at her approaching form, quirking an eyebrow in surprise.  “Cordelia?”

She stopped a few feet away from him, panting a little from the exertion, chest heaving.  While catching her breath, she looked him over, noting the dark circles under his tired eyes and bandages still wrapped around almost every visible patch of bare skin.  “Lon’qu... what are you doing out here?  You should be inside resting.”

A wry grin touched his lips for a second.  “I might ask you the same thing,” he replied.  He stopped suddenly as his eyes wandered lower than she was accustomed to seeing.  His face flushed cherry red, and he quickly looked up and away from her.

It took her a second to register what it was that distracted him.  The top portion of her Dark Flier tunic dipped lower than either of them realized, for it was usually concealed beneath bulky but modest armor.  She didn't exactly have much to show, but they were there nonetheless.  

She squeaked and crossed her arms, also turning her attention to sky.

A round of embarrassed throat clearing ensued.  “I...”  She began after a while, rubbing her arms and shifting on her feet a little.  “I couldn't sleep.  I thought perhaps a little moonlight stroll might wear me out, or provide me with a distraction.”  Then concern and irritation filled her.  She aimed a half-hearted glare at her friend, forgetting her discomfort.  “But you still have wounds that haven’t fully healed yet, correct?  You must take it easy.”

Lon’qu scowled, though still without looking at her.  “Y-you act as though I am about to rush into battle or resume training.  I have been bedridden long enough, Cordelia.  Like you, I am simply in need of something else to occupy my mind.  Getting some fresh air is hardly going to kill me.”  He lowered his voice and mumbled something about his downfall that she didn't quite understand.

“You may be right,” she conceded, without commenting on whatever else he was muttering about.  Then she smiled fondly.  “Still... you cannot fault me for worrying about you.”

He didn’t respond to her statement; he simply returned to staring at his fire.  However, the reddish tint to his face deepened, and he fought against mirroring her smile in gratefulness.

A chill ran through Cordelia as she stood there unmoving, and she wondered if he would be okay if she sat down to share the warmth of the burning flames.  She could ask, but she didn’t want to be turned down.  During their time apart and his subsequent confinement/bed rest, she truly missed spending time with him, though it was often overshadowed by her love and heartache for Chrom.   Besides, she wanted to verify for herself whether or not he was truly recovering.

Feeling empowered and selfish to an extent, she nonchalantly strolled closer and took a seat across from him.  She pulled her knees up to her chest to keep herself covered, wrapped her arms around them, and rested her chin on them, likewise gazing into the flickering lights.  She sensed, rather than saw him glance up at her, but he did not protest or make any move to leave, which was certainly a good sign.

Lon’qu cleared his throat to garner her attention once more, preventing her from wandering too far into melancholy thoughts.  “Er... Cordelia...”  He fidgeted nervously.  “I... have been meaning to thank you again, for....”  His expression shifted so that he looked rather ashamed of himself.  “The other night... when I was ill, you did not have to stay by my side or assist Libra.  And yet...”

Cordelia lifted her head and frowned.  “You _asked_ me to stay, Lon’qu.  How could I say no?  Did you really expect me leave you alone, when you did not wish to be?”

“Well no... I guess.  But you also took care of my belongings.  And the priests gave me cabbage stew...”

She stifled a mischievous giggle.  “What makes you think I had anything to do with those things?” she asked.

He rolled his dark eyes.  “Who else would have done it?  Besides, you know that I am well acquainted with your cooking.”

“Yes, I suppose I am rather predictable, aren't I?”

His countenance softened and his voice dropped in volume.  “Why...?” he mumbled, without elaborating on the question further.

He didn't really need to; Cordelia understood his query perfectly well.  “Why not?” she whispered, shrugging like it was no big deal.  It really wasn't after all.  She was happy to help others in any way she could, and it especially gave her joy to aid him specifically.  It had become second nature in a way, to recognize and tend to his needs whenever it was in her power to do so.

Lon’qu didn't seem to know how to respond to such a casual reaction.  After an inordinate amount of time, he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.  “It would appear that my debt to you continues to increase....”

This time it was her turn to roll her eyes.  “How many times must I tell you?  There are no debts between comrades and friends.”  Before she could continue to denounce his stubborn pride, she swiftly realized that this could be a golden opportunity to have some of her nagging questions satisfied.  “Although... if you truly wish to repay me, there is something I desire.”

He nodded slowly, though his face flashed through several subdued emotions first.  If she hadn't spent so much time with him, she might not have recognized the various tiny ticks that indicated his surprise, curiosity, willingness, and hope.  “Very well.  Name it.”

Her countenance shifted to a more somber approach.  “Answers,” she told him.

“Answers to what?”  

Cordelia mentally pushed down the random and uncalled for bout of jealousy that decided to rear its ugly head, and she steeled herself to pry into the carefully guarded fortress of his heart.  “Who is Ke’ri?” she asked in a low, even voice.

Lon’qu’s irises widened for a split second, then shifted to a glare.  “How do you know that name?” he hissed dangerously.

She did not flinch at his tone, nor did she break contact.  “For a moment, you mistook me for her in your feverish state,” she explained levelly.  “Naturally, I wondered who she was.”  She did not succeed in keeping the sadness from her voice as she presumed, “She must be someone very important to you.”

He lowered his head to avoid her scrutinizing stare.  “What makes you say that?”

She chuckled humorlessly, failing to curb the cynicism fully.  “A woman knows, Lon’qu,” she replied enigmatically.

He groaned, but whether it was from her initial question or her ambiguous response, she could not be sure.  “Why do you want to know?” he questioned defensively.  

The Dark Flier sighed in resignation, curling into herself.  “Look, if you don’t want to tell me...”

His jaw clenched the way it did whenever he was unwilling giving in to something.  “I... did not say... that I wouldn't....” murmured.

She straightened in astonishment.  She really hadn't expected him to agree, however grudgingly.  Although it might help if she was honest with him as well.  “Lon’qu, this Ke’ri... I know that you care for her.  It was obvious from the way you held my hand... a-and touched my face.”  She looked away from him.

His face heated by several visible degrees.  “What?  D-did I truly do that?” he blanched.

“Ah... yes.  You did.”  She bit the inside of her cheek nervously before moving on.  “Also, you apologized to me... er... to her.”  Her attitude melted when she mentally recalled the tortured look he had given her at the time, as well as the feelings she had stifled.  “You appeared to be in agony  when you said it.  And I confess... I could not stand to see you that way.”  She put a hand over her heart and closed her eyes.  “It grieved me.  And I would take away your pain, were it in my power to do so.  But... I understand that some wounds never heal, and sometimes the hurt never fades.”  Then she smiled when she returned her gaze to him.  “Nonetheless, I know firsthand that sharing the sorrow... the burden, with someone you trust... makes it more bearable.  WE can endure it... because we are not alone.”

Lon’qu kept his eyes locked on hers and swallowed heavily, though she did not know whether it was from anxiousness or sadness.  Eventually, he crossed his arms with a sigh and began slowly.  “Ke’ri was a girl from my village... far from here, in Chon’sin.  I was merely a boy from the slums...”  He went on to describe briefly how they met, their friendship, and (though he admitted it somewhat reluctantly) their growing love for one another.  He kept his story fairly straight forward and to-the-point, in a rather detached tone, and Cordelia was forced to quell millions of questions in her mind.  It wasn't until he started to speak of her death that his story became more detailed and he allowed some emotion to seep through his carefully crafted mask of indifference.

Cordelia unconsciously scooted closer as he spoke, partially because his voice had dropped to a low whisper, and it was becoming difficult to hear him, but also out of a growing desire to embrace him, just as he once did for her.  She blinked back tears when he recounted the torture he was forced to witness, and the wounds he’d incurred from trying to fight off the brigands who had attacked them.  She sniffed a few times as he relayed the blame he bore both from himself and Ke’ri’s parents when he was unable to save her.  And finally, she closed her eyes and hugged herself, biting her lip when he talked about the continuing nightmares he endured to this day.

They were both silent for some time after his tale had concluded.  He was staring at the dying fire again, deep in thought, while she refused to look at him, fearing that she would break if she did.  He did not say anything more until he realized how close she was now sitting to him.  “H-hey!  Cordelia...” He sounded like he was about to reprimand her for sneaking up on him, but paused when he noticed her demeanor.  “Are you alright?” he asked.

Without opening her eyes, her head bobbed in affirmation, jaw clenched tight.  She exhaled a shaky breath.  “Yes.  I... I just...”  Her eyes met his and the tears began to flow.  “I’m sorry, Lon’qu.  I’m so sorry.  That’s so horrible...”

He appeared puzzled by her actions.  “Thank you, but... why are _you_ crying?”

Cordelia choked.  “I don’t know!  I don’t know...”  She rubbed her eyes and composed herself somewhat, though she continued to weep gently.  “I suppose... I’m crying because I never realized how much sorrow you've been carrying all this time.  Or maybe... I am crying because you are not.”

Lon’qu grunted, stunned by both of her assumptions.  “I have shed tears for Ke’ri... long ago.  She would not want me to keep mourning her.”

“And yet you do,” she insisted.  “Even now, the memory haunts you and the pain plagues you.  That is why you have nightmares, and it is why you are afraid of women, correct?”

“.....”

The Dark Flier gave in to her inclinations and cuddled up to him, hugging one of his arms and resting her head on his shoulder, fearing that anything more might induce one of his phobic fits.

He flinched and tried to extract his arm from her tight grip.  “W-what are you doing?”

The redhead closed her eyes again and sighed sadly.  “The only thing I can, Lon’qu.  I’m sorry that I made you relive that.  And I’m sorry that I possess nothing that would be of any use to you in this situation.  I've no magic spells or hexes, no remedies or potions that could possibly ease the memory of what happened to Ke’ri... and to you.  As I've told you before... sharing the knowledge and the burden, crying when you are unable... that is all I can offer you.”  

He did not respond at first.  For a moment, he seemed to concentrate on simply remembering to breathe, the tension in his body gradually melting in her embrace.  After what seemed like forever, she felt him reach up with his free hand to touch one of hers.  “It is... more than enough...” he whispered.  In an even more unprecedented act of gratitude and fortitude, he inclined his own head against hers and exhaled quietly, his warm breath ghosting over her forehead as he let his own eyes slip closed.

Cordelia felt her face and chest grow warm in pleasant contentment.  She smiled dreamily, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt at home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. Since this story is pretty Cordelia-centric, I chose not to go into massive detail regarding Ke’ri. The general point was to just to have Lon’qu open up about it to her, since he does not do so in their game supports.


	14. Where Your Loyalties Lie

_**Chapter Thirteen: Where Your Loyalties Lie** \- Doubts inevitably plague women as the relationship progresses, but men suppress a similar fear.  Am I good enough?  Is there more I should be doing to satisfy my significant other?  Will she stay with me forever?  Will she stay no matter what?  These are questions he will be asking himself as his feelings for you deepen.  You must commit yourself to him, no matter what, and pledge to never leave his side._

Following their intimate conversation regarding his past, Lon’qu and Cordelia went their separate ways to get some rest, though they had spent a few more hours talking or just sitting in companionable silence.  Sunrise snuck up on them unexpectedly, and with it, the weariness that came from being awake most of the night.  And so, after an endearingly awkward “good night”, the Dark Flier went back to bed and left her partner to do the same.

When she officially got up later that morning, the news had spread that the Shepherds would be breaking camp and returning to Ylisstol first thing the next day.  No information regarding Robin’s recovery was forthcoming, but it must have been deemed safe to move her, and the other injured Shepherds were approved for travel as well.  Therefore, the rest of her afternoon was consumed with packing and dismantling nonessential areas and supplies.

Once everything had been organized according to Frederick’s strict standards and having little else to do, Cordelia decided to head back to the Healer’s area to check up on her friend again.  But to her surprise, he had escaped the watchful eye of the priest tending to him and had been searching for her as well.

She sighed in exasperation as he cautiously approached her, his oaken practice sword lightly held in his gloved hand.  “And just where do you think you’re going with that?” she interrogated as soon as he was within earshot, hands on her hips to emphasize the scolding.  “I highly doubt you've been cleared for training.”

Lon’qu allowed himself a tiny smirk.  “I have not, but I see no reason to delay _yours_ any longer,” he answered, holding the dull weapon out to her.  “With the poison out of my system, healing spells are expediting my recovery.  Therefore, I am healthy enough to proceed with your lessons, so long as I refrain from demonstrating the techniques.”

She accepted the proffered sword, taking the hilt and allowing the blade to casually rest against her shoulder.  She stifled the urge to rebuke him for his overzealous commitment to fencing practice and chuckled as she led the way to the exercise yard.  “More lessons, huh?  You know, Lon’qu... you needn't make up excuses to spend time with me,” she teased, giving no forethought to the potential impact of her words.  She did not truly believe her own words; he was, like her, simply dedicated to his craft.  She dared not hope or assume otherwise. 

She walked several paces ahead before she realized that he was not following her.  She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him.  “Hey!  Are you coming?”

He was still in the same spot, a dumbfounded look on his face.  At her call, he shook his head and reverted to a neutral expression.  He almost broke into a run, but at her reprimanding stare, he slowed to a walk to catch up.  They strolled side-by-side an arm’s length away, closing the gap only at brief intervals for the Assassin to circumvent any other passing women. 

Lon’qu eventually disturbed the quiet as they neared the training area, a stoic heaviness to his soft voice.  “Did you mean it?” he mumbled.

She tilted her head ever-so-slightly, indicating her uncertainty.  “Did I mean what?”

His hands clenched and unclenched at his side.  “W-what you said about... not needing an excuse... to come see you.  Did you mean that?”

The Dark Flier shrugged and smiled.  “Of course!  We _are_ friends, aren't we?  Spending time with one another, talking, or whatever... that’s what friends do, correct?”  She wondered if there was more to his question than he was voicing, but she wasn't willing to dig too deep at the moment.  It had been an emotional couple of days, and she just wanted to avoid over thinking for a while.

He seemed dissatisfied with her response, but he did not press the issue.  He frowned and scratched at his bandaged collarbone absently.  “Assume your stance...” he commanded.

She complied with his orders, and for about forty-five minutes, she trained under the watchful eye of her teacher.  She had the basic techniques down cold, and even a few of the more advanced sequences gave her little trouble now.  However, the latest series of strikes he’d taught her well before their temporary separation was eluding her grasp.  The corrections he offered far outweighed the praise, and she grew frustrated with herself.  The theory was easy, the movements commonplace, but she just couldn't translate the vision in her head to a physical practice.  

When he barked “again” for approximately the twentieth time, she grunted and dropped her stance, throwing up her arms in temporary surrender.  “Curses!  Why can’t I get this right?!”  She looked at Lon’qu expectantly, seeking further guidance.

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes.  “I feared this would be the case.  You have stagnated.  In fact, it is likely that you have reached the limit of your ability to wield a sword.”

Cordelia shook her head vehemently, mildly shocked that he would make such an outrageous claim.  “No... that can’t be right.  I’m just in a funk, that’s all.  I’ll get past this.”  She resumed swinging her weapon wildly while speaking.  “I just... need... to work... harder!”  

“Stop,” he commanded softly.  When she didn't listen, he sighed and came to her side, grabbing her wrist firmly to cease her movements and nearly throwing her off balance.  “Stop!  You can progress no further, Cordelia.  It is pointless to continue.”

She glared at him, refusing to believe first of all that she was incapable of improving her skill, and second, that he would give up on her so easily.  “You’re wrong!  I can do this!  I've never failed before and I do not intend to start now.  I will not stop until I’m as good as you.”

Lon’qu despoiled her of his sword and swiftly let go, retreating to his safe zone.  “If you are weighing your talents against mine, you are underestimating yourself.  I am hardly the most impressive swordsman around.  Regardless, it is not a lack of skill that holds you back, but a lack of conviction.”

“Conviction?  I’ll have you know, sir, that there is hardly a single Shepherd more devoted than I to improving,” she replied, boasting a little.  She did not possess an excessive ego, but she did pride herself on her dedication in training.  After all, it was one of the few qualities that had ever garnered attention from Chrom, and she treasured it.

“You misunderstand,” he countered.  “When I speak of conviction, I do not mean the perseverance required to learn a new ability, but rather the _reason_ for doing so.”  His voice was lower than normal when he asked, “Cordelia... what is your reason?  Why do you wish to master the blade?”

Her irritation subsided as she considered his query.  She’d thought about it on occasion, certainly when she first asked him for lessons, but some of her purposes were deeply personal, and perhaps not even valid anymore.  One of them, of course, was to have an excuse to speak and/or train with Chrom, whose primary weapon was the sword, but since he appeared to have given his love to Robin, it really didn't matter at this point.  She had also used it as a means to get to know Lon’qu, and that had already been accomplished.  She decided to give her weakest, but only remaining answer.  “Well... I suppose because I’ll never know what type of combat situation I will find myself in.  If I am capable of wielding multiple weapons, I can be moderately prepared for almost anything.”

The Assassin shook his head in disappointment.  “If that is your only reason, you will not succeed.  You may be able to best weaker adversaries, but you will fall to those more skilled than I.”

Her body grew hot as annoyance flared in her being at his words.  “So sure of that, are you?  Fine then!  What _should_ my reason be?”

He looked into her ruby irises, a barely perceptible smile gracing his lips.  Her face began to flush at his penetrating, yet tender gaze.  “There is only one motive that will allow you to perfect the art of swordplay.  In fact, I had almost forgotten it myself, until very recently.  And... I suspect that it is the same reason you became a soldier in the first place.”  In a somber tone, he told her, “To protect the ones you love.  There is no greater purpose than that, no desire for strength that could equal it.  It is that singular goal which will allow you to achieve more than you can possibly imagine.”

Lon’qu slowly walked over to her again, nearly closing the distance between them.  “W-who would you protect with such a skill?”

Cordelia froze as her heart began to race, thumping so loudly in her rib cage that she was sure he could hear it.  Her body felt uncomfortably warm and something in her belly fluttered in excitement.  Her breath hitched; for a moment, she forgot how to breathe as she searched his deep, dark eyes.  She’d always liked his eyes.  They held in their prisms everything that he could not or would not express with words.  She saw in them his sorrow and his burden, but also admiration, affection, and hope.  She forced a shaky inhale and tried to focus on answering his question.

She did not know what to say, but before she could articulate this fact, some movement over his shoulder caught her peripheral vision.  Her eyes widened and her stomach dropped uncertainly.  “Chrom...”

Lon’qu’s face fell and his entire countenance was disheartened.  He did not realize that her utterance was not her answer until a deep voice bellowed from behind him, “Hey, Lon’qu!  THERE you are!  Been looking for you, sprog!”

The brunet stepped away from the redhead and whirled around.  “Basilio?” he asked, startled to find the formidable West Khan approaching, his usual jolly demeanor bubbling in his aura.  Walking by his side was a distracted looking Chrom.

“The one and only!  Heard you took quite a beating from some freakishly strong Risen.  How ya doing?”  The loud, dark-skinned Feroxian clapped a large hand on Lon’qu’s shoulder, unintentionally drawing a wince from the injured swordsman.

Concern for her friend’s well being suddenly overrode the uncomfortable moment.  “Hey, hey!  Be careful!” Cordelia chided, stepping between the two men and shooing Basilio back.  “His wounds haven’t fully healed yet!  You mustn't be so rough!”

Lon’qu turned beat red while his superior laughed heartily.  “Ba ha ha ha!  Well, well!  And who is this fetching little spitfire?” he asked loudly.

“Cordelia...” Chrom interjected, amusement overtaking his tired features at his subordinates’ discomfort.  “She’s one of our finest pegasus knights.  You won’t meet a warrior more skilled and dedicated than her.”  He nodded to the myrmidon.  “Lon’qu has been giving her fencing lessons.”

The Khan grinned wickedly with a raised eyebrow.  “Oh reeeaaally?” he drawled.  “Is _that_ what they’re calling it these days?”

The Dark Flier froze, her mind stalling in the embarrassment of such a blatant innuendo and the unintentional thrill of hearing the prince acknowledge and boast of her.

Her partner, who was just as mortified but admittedly far more accustomed to Basilio’s brash behavior, recovered quicker and cleared his throat for attention, crossing his arms stoically.  “She saved my life when we first met.  I agreed to teach her to wield a sword as payment,” he elaborated in a clipped, even tone.  “Why are you here?”

The Khan threw up his hands dramatically.  “Tch!  You’re no fun!  You really should loosen up some.”  He gave up when the only response he received from his former champion was an impatient glare.  “ANYWAY... I’m here to take you home, of course.”

Lon’qu dropped his arms to his side and mumbled “Huh?”, while Cordelia snapped back to attention to say “What?” at the same time.

“Well, yeah!” he stated, shrugging as though it was obvious.  “War’s over, right?  And these guys,” he pointed a thumb at Chrom, “are heading back to Ylisse tomorrow.  Figured it’s about time we part ways.  Got a lot of rebuilding to do and brigands to smash, and we could use your help back home.”  He paused and winked.  “Unless you’d rather stay with the Shepherds and keep giving ‘ _fencing lessons_ ’.”

At this point, Chrom stepped forward to say his own piece and spare them from further scrutiny.  “You have been a stalwart ally, and a most valuable asset to us, Lon’qu.  You would be most welcome in Ylisse, and we would certainly keep you busy.  But the choice is yours.”

Lon’qu glanced back and forth between the two leaders, considering.  Then he turned and looked at Cordelia.

She slowly met his gaze once more, eyes widening.  She didn’t know what to think, or how she should feel.  Was this really happening?  It never occurred to her that he would leave, that whatever this was that they had would end.  He’d become such a fixture in her heart, unusual as it was at times, that she had ceased to recall her life before his entrance in it, or imagine it with him gone.

But really, what else did she expect?  What possible reason could he have to stay?  He had friends here certainly, but was that enough?  

And... in the midst of recent events, she had forgotten all about her promise to figure out her warring feelings for him.  Although Chrom’s no-longer-subtle love for Robin had closed one door for her, it didn’t mean she was ready to open another.  She was still grieving, wounded and confused.

She had no answers at all, and she could no longer endure the pleading look he was giving her.  Unconsciously, her line of sight drifted to Chrom, who was watching them both expectantly.  She bowed her head, fiery strands of silk falling over her face and masking her features in shadow.

She heard Lon’qu take a deep breath next to her.  After a lengthy silence, he began softly, “I confess... I once thought very little of Ylisse and its people.  It seemed to me full of lofty ideals, but no strength to back them.”  He even had the grace to look a little sheepish at this claim.  “I thought of you all as weak, hardly worth my allegiance, save at Basilio’s request.”  He shook his head at his own foolishness, almost smiling.  “However, I now know that I was wrong, and I am proud to have allied myself with you.  I have friends and comrades among the Shepherds, and a feeling of acceptance, such as I have not had in a very long time.”

But his solemn demeanor returned as he concluded quietly, “However, Regna Ferox is where I belong, and I have been away too long.”  He nodded to Basilio firmly.  “I am ready to go home,” he decided, sounding wistful.

“I’m sorry to see you go, but I completely understand,” Chrom said.  “You have contributed much, and I greatly appreciate all that you have done, not the least of which was saving the life of my sister.”  He approached and held out a hand.  “On behalf of Ylisse and all of the Shepherds, I wish to thank you for your faithful service.  I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that you will always be considered one of us, and are most welcome to visit Ylisstol whenever you wish, as an honored guest.”

Lon’qu grasped the offered appendage and shook it.  “Thank you.  And if you ever have need of me, or my sword, you need only ask.  I will come when you call.”  

“Understood.”  Chrom smiled as he let go.  He grunted somewhat awkwardly.  “Hmm... well then, I’ll leave you to pack and say your goodbyes.  Take care, Lon’qu.”

“And you, milord,” he replied, stepping back and bowing respectfully.  Something suddenly crossed his mind, and he delayed.

“What is it?” Basilio asked.

Concern overtook his features.  “Robin...” he murmured, knowing that he did not need to elaborate further.

The future king’s expression mirrored his.  “She’s getting better; I’m sure she’ll wake up soon.”  He leaned in and his voice dropped in volume.  He blushed.  “When she does, I plan on asking her to marry me.  Naturally, you and the Khans will be invited to the wedding...”

Lon’qu did not seem the least bit surprised by this bit of news.  Neither was Cordelia, to be honest, but it did not ease the painful sting of hearing Chrom finally say aloud what she already knew.

Whatever else the men discussed for the next few minutes was lost on her.  She drifted off in thought, the familiar heartache creeping in and robbing her of whatever remaining joy she might try to salvage from the moment.  It wasn't until after they had begun to disperse that she came back from her self-pity and realized that her fencing instructor was departing, the practice sword still in his hand.

“Lon’qu!  Lon’qu, wait!” She sprinted after him, but stopped short of taking his arm, as she once did.  He halted, but did not turn around to face her.  “So that’s it?  You’re leaving?  Just like that?” she demanded.

Even from her vantage from behind him, she knew that he was staring at the ground.  His shoulders were sagged dejectedly.  Finally, he answered, “Yes.  My service to Ylisse has concluded.  I am no longer needed there.”

She shook her head violently, tears brimming to the surface.  “That’s not true!” she insisted.  “You told me before, didn’t you?  You said that warriors like us will _always_ be needed.  There is still so much more you could do.  There are still brigands... a-and bandits to fight... Risen... new soldiers to train.  Y-you could help teach new recruits swordplay...”

“All of which I must do for Regna Ferox,” he refuted firmly, at last twisting his body to see her.  “Ylisse is not the only country in need of warriors, Cordelia.  And now that our mutual war is over, I must return.  My principal duty is to my home country... as is yours, is it not?” He mumbled the last part rather sadly.

“I... w-well, yes.  I suppose...”

“Then there is nothing further to discuss...”  He made to leave again, but delayed.  He gave her one final look of desperate longing.  “...unless... there is something... you’re not telling me?”

Cordelia was too emotionally confused to figure out what he was trying to imply.  “I... what do you mean?”

His last shred of optimism faded, and he immediately reverted to his usual sober mask.  “Never mind.  If you will excuse me, I need to go pack my things.”  

He started to walk away again.  In a panic, she wracked her brain for a counter-argument.  Finding none that seemed suitable, she finally blurted out, “Well what about my fencing lessons?  I refuse to give up until I've mastered it.  But I need your help.  I can’t do it without you.”

He paused once more and mustered a solitary, sorrowful smile, shaking his head a little with a long-suffering exhale.  He advanced on her, and wordlessly held out his oaken sword.  

She accepted it with a trembling hands, gripping the hilt with the the blade pointed towards the ground.  She bit her lip as he came near and set a strong, steady palm on her shoulder.  

“Protect the ones you love, and everything will fall into place,” he told her.  “You’ll be fine.  You... you don’t need me.”  His lips parted to say something else, but he decided against it.  He inclined his head ever-so-slightly, and at last whispered, “Goodbye... Cordelia...”  After that, he said nothing more, either because there really was nothing else to say or because neither of them could think of anything.  He released her, taking a few steps backwards as though unwilling to cease looking at her.  

But eventually, he whirled around, and at last went away.

And just like before, Cordelia stayed rooted to the spot.  The gathering tears slowly escaped, flowing in tiny, lonely rivers.  Her grip on the sword tightened, as both body and soul stilled and numbed.  “Goodbye...” she breathed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t abandon the story just yet!! I know some of you might be highly disappointed with the direction I went with this chapter, but I have a very good reason for it. It always annoyed me that you could give Cordelia an S support early in the game, but later when you recruit Henry, which is AFTER the two year timeskip, she still claims to be in love with Chrom. So the next couple of chapters will focus on alternative reason for why that is. As such, Lon’qu will be out of the picture for a while, but I had some fun with a few other characters. Hang in there! There will be lots of fluffy romance to come eventually!


	15. Shelved and Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of different format for a few chapters. You’ll understand when you read this one. But I’ll bring back Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight in a little while.

**Shelved and Forgotten**

_Cordelia lay on her bed and stared off in the distance, tears gradually cascading from bloodshot eyes.  Her head was cradled in Sumia’s lap, and her friend was playing with her hair soothingly, pulling the long strands out of her face.  She was quite grateful to have the company of one who knew what she was going through.  Though the other Dark Flier had been married to Frederick for a little while now, she too once harbored feelings for their commander._

_“Is this how it was for you?” she mumbled._

_Sumia thought for a moment before answering.  “Yes and no, I guess,” she told her.  “Yes, because Chrom was my first love, and no one ever really wants to let go of that.  Plus, there was a time when I thought he liked me too.  But no, ‘cuz by the time I realized that he was in love with Robin, I already had feelings for Frederick.”_

_The redhead turned her head to look up at her oldest companion.  “So you don’t love him at all anymore?”_

_“I do, it’s just not the same.  There’s lots of different kinds of love, you know.  And sometimes the kind of love you feel for someone changes over time.  But it never really ends.”_

_Cordelia smiled, albeit painfully.  “Good.”  She sighed and closed her eyes.  “I... I don’t want to let go of this.”_

_“I understand,” Sumia said.  “However... you can’t let yourself get stuck here.  You’re always saying that you want your days to be filled with joy.  I know you don’t NEED a husband for that, but if you do want to get married someday, you’ll have to stop being so afraid.”_

_The teary-eyed girl sat up suddenly and glared at her fellow pegasus knight.  “Afraid?  What on earth could I possibly be afraid of?”_

_Her klutzy comrade winced a little at her indignation and held up her hands peaceably.  “Please don’t be mad!  But... you know more than anyone that love isn’t easy.  It isn’t all romance and happiness.”  She smiled, but her tone was serious when she continued, “It means completely accepting the other person, including all of their flaws, and loving them anyway.  It means doing your best to meet their needs even when you don’t want to or you feel like they don’t deserve it.”_

_“That sounds difficult, not frightening,” Cordelia pointed out.  “What you’re describing is essentially the same creed as our knighthood.”_

_Sumia giggled, unfazed by her ire.  “You didn’t let me finish!”  Her voice grew quieter.  “The REALLY scary part is that you have to let the other person see YOUR flaws too.  You have to let them see all of you, inside and out, and trust them to love and accept you no matter what.  And that IS scary, because you may still experience some rejection, and there will be times when he’ll let you down.  Being vulnerable... that’s what you’re afraid of.”_

_She reached out and took her hand.  “I think... that’s why you’d rather keep loving Chrom, instead of taking a chance on someone else.”_

_Cordelia hung her head.  “Perhaps there is truth to what you say,” she admitted.  “But what if... what if I am not worthy of love?  What if there’s something wrong with me?  She shut her eyes tightly to try to stop herself from sobbing again.  “What if I am not able to love anyone else?  And who would possibly find it in themselves to love me?”_

_“Well... what about Lon’qu?”_

_She sniffed a few times and wiped her moist face with a handkerchief.  Something within her perked up at the name of her former partner.  “What about him?”_

_Sumia’s ever-present grin was replaced with a rather uncharacteristic smirk.  “I heard he was looking for you...”_

Cordelia opened her eyes and blinked slowly, attempting to focus both her vision and her mind from the haze of dreams and the blinding light of the morning sun shining through a crack in the nearby window curtain.  She basked in the sumptuous warmth for a few moments and then sat up, tossing aside her blankets and stretching leisurely.  After a few satisfying pops for her stiff spine, she rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.  

“What a strange dream,” she thought out loud, yawning.  She turned to sit on the side of her bed, planting her feet lightly on the cool floor.  She stared at her feet blearily and tried, in vain, not to sigh.

In truth, it hadn’t been a dream, but a memory.  It was a conversation she’d had with Sumia after Chrom and Robin’s wedding and coronation ceremony.  The reception had been in full swing, and everyone had been having a good time... everyone except for her that is.  She’d worn a convincingly happy smile throughout most of the festivities, applauded and cheered with everyone else, and raised a glass to wish the newlyweds the best of luck.  But once she’d fulfilled what was expected of her, she slipped off quietly during the chaos of dancing and dignitaries to weep one last time for the love she never had.

That was nearly two years ago, and since then, her life had become peaceful and complacent.  Naturally, she helped with various rebuilding projects, as did all of the Shepherds who remained in Ylisse (many of whom had since married one another, come to think of it).  Aside from that, she’d been kept pretty busy with new tasks befitting her station as a ranking pegasus knight and hero of the Plegian War.

The first change to come was the choosing of a new royal guard for the Exalt (who still refused to be referred to as such).  During Emmeryn’s reign, this mostly included the top squads of the Pegasus Knights, led by Captain Phila.  In Chrom’s case, he was content to have Frederick alone by his side in this regard, backed by the rest of the Shepherds only as needed.  However, he had insisted that Robin be given the same level of protection as himself, and swiftly followed his elder sister’s example.  He ultimately requested that Sumia and Cordelia, along with the Paladin Sully to act as her retainers.  This initiated one of the couple’s first considerable arguments, as Robin insisted that she had no need of bodyguards nor any other personal servants, however willing they might be.  But the king was adamant that no harm should befall his bride, and he eventually won out.  

Even though she was officially the head of Robin’s guard, Cordelia didn’t have nearly as much interaction with the royal couple as one might think.  Shortly after accepting the post, the tactician pulled her into her office and requested that she instead utilize her natural charm and teaching abilities to draft and train new recruits as Pegasus Knights.  The few units that remained at the end of the war were greenhorns - skilled enough for patrols, but hardly battle hardened material.  Sumia would assist her in this task, but had been asked to focus on raising pegasi for the new units to ride, a job which nicely appealed to her love of the animals.  

Aside from that, they were of course expected to go on missions to combat brigands or Risen, and were only required to escort Robin at random intervals into the city or on diplomatic errands.  Even then, it was usually limited to situations when a flier would prove most advantageous.  Overall, at least in the young queen’s mind, rebuilding Ylisse and its army was paramount in comparison to following her around.

The redhead yawned once again and stood, reluctantly beginning to prepare for her day.  She stripped off her knee-length nightshirt and dropped it in a bin of dirty clothes for later washing.  She put on her smallclothes and chest bindings and sat down at a small vanity to brush her long hair, reflecting on her life.

She’d never had the courage to breach the subject, but she often wondered if her assignments were also her friend’s way of caring for her.  She never said anything outright, but it seemed to her that when they had discussed the new job, the tactician had a deeply compassionate look in her eyes, and she took the time to carefully choose her words.  She suspected that perhaps the strategist was aware of her subordinate’s unspoken love for her husband, and was doing her best to alleviate awkward and potentially harmful situations.  If it were anyone else, the Falcon Knight might have wondered if she was intentionally being kept away from the object of her affections out of jealousy.  This was Robin though, and she was far too trusting to be motivated by such a thing.  She had always shown the utmost care and professionalism with those she loved, for the most part.  Cordelia felt certain that if she did know, the busy work was meant to help her defend her own heart from the continuous breakage that would occur from having to be around the happy couple.

Thus, the foundation for a new life was laid, bit by little bit, until a pattern emerged and a predictable routine was established.  Wake up, train herself, train others, complete missions, go to bed.  Rinse and repeat until days turned into weeks, and then months.  Before anyone knew it, a year had passed and now, almost two.  Oh sure, there were a few odd events that broke up the monotony and brought some measure of momentary happiness: weddings, festivals and, more recently, the birth of Princess Lucina.  There had even been a few adventurous trips to the Outrealms, which was certainly interesting.  But overall, life flowed along on a peaceful course, and the Ylisseans were grateful for it.

For Cordelia, it meant stability, but it also fostered feelings of unrest and loneliness.  Chrom was forever beyond her reach, Lon’qu had gone away, and most of her closest friends were balancing duty with domestication.  She probably wasn't the only one struggling with such emptiness following the war, where life was fraught with excitement, danger, and a clear goal, but it felt that way at times.  That’s why, early on, sometime after Chrom and Robin’s wedding, a part of her shut down and grew silent.  She shelved the book that had been her path to dream fulfillment and with it, her heart.  In order to protect it from further heartache, she figuratively put it away and smothered its desires, to gather dust and be forgotten.  Certainly it isolated her at times and robbed her of the joy she had always sought after, but at least she was safe.  

That’s what she told herself anyway, but even denial in the name of self preservation could not hinder the occasional stir.  In the beginning, it was usually a short conversation with Chrom or simply seeing him at all that would do it.  More often than not though, it was the casual mention of the Feroxian myrmidon that gave her pause, or her own memories of him, like the dream conversation she had last night, moments that came at random and made her perk up to breathe life into something she thought dead or asleep.

Having completed her brief beauty regime, Cordelia finished dressing in her full Falcon Knight attire, indulged in a light breakfast, and tidied her room.  Then she headed for the door, pausing along the way to collect her practice weapons from the rack near the exit.  Her eyes roved over the various options, but settled on an old familiar blade, a gift from a dear friend.

She gazed at Lon’qu’s oaken sword, a sense of nostalgia and loss pooling in her stagnant soul.  She rarely practiced her fencing anymore.  Without her former teacher to guide and encourage her, she’d lost the motivation.  She had tried, many times in the beginning, doing her best to remember his last advice to her, but it wasn't the same without him there to watch her progress with that small, shy smile and nervous blush.

There were times when she thought about reaching out to him; she must have started dozens of letters and considered visiting Regna Ferox more than once.  But something always stopped her, and even in the rare moments that she learned that he was in Ylisse on business, she now never sought him out, unable to face that pained look of desperation he kept giving her towards the end of their partnership.  As much as she dreaded being hurt herself, she also didn't want to cause him anymore harm by denying him an answer she still didn't have or understand.  She felt like she had failed him, as a friend and as a student, and she feared confronting it.  

There were, of course, random occasions in which they did happen to run into each other, but their dialogue was awkward, overly polite, and short.  She couldn't bear it, and so just like before, when he left for his mission into the mountains of Regna Ferox, she avoided him at all costs.  It had now been several months since she had seen him at all, though she heard news of him sometimes.

The pegasus knight sighed and picked up the wooden blade, along with a staff to simulate a lance, a canteen of water, and a towel, and headed out to run some drills, though it was technically her day off.  It was far too nice outside to stay indoors today, the perfect temperature for exercising without overheating.    

The army barracks were essentially an extension of the palace, so Chrom and Robin were often found wandering about as well, when they were not predisposed with other matters.  Recently though, neither of them were seen much.  This was mostly attributed to the obvious joy of having welcomed their new baby girl into the world, but there also seemed to be an air of uneasiness among the Shepherds lately.  No one had a plausible explanation for the unsettling atmosphere, but it was felt by all nonetheless, including Cordelia.  Requests for armed escorts had increased, the number of wandering Risen had doubled, and bandits were growing bold again.   

It was for that reason, among others, that she wanted to spend more of her free time training.  When she was on duty, she was focused on instructing the new recruits instead of honing her own talents.  If the ominous wind was any indication of something to come, she wanted to be ready.  And from the decent amount of various soldiers that littered the training yard, she wasn't the only one.  

Cordelia set aside the sword for the time being, and began working with her “lance” first.  Most of her superiors told her she was already a master of that weapon, but it wouldn't do to become complacent and risk growing rusty.  She held the staff vertically in front of her as though saluting an opponent in a duel.  She closed her eyes, inhaled fully, and exhaled through her mouth.  Then her ruby irises snapped open and narrowed with intense concentration.  

She lunged forward and thrust the weapon with her full might, visualizing a pointed tip impaling a Risen.   She separated her hands on either end of the shaft and spun it in slow, precise circles on either side of her body, always ending each sequence with the designated pointed end up and out.  Every time it crossed in front of her body, her hands closed in the middle, her wrists twisting in calculated movements to maximize a sense of balance, speed, and power.  With every motion, her core remained fully engaged and her feet stepped firmly as though following an intricate dance.  

For indeterminate amount of time, she went through nearly every lance related drill she knew, following by general strength training exercises.  Eventually, she took a break and sat down on one of the benches at the edge of the area, using her towel to wipe the sweat from her face and neck.  She took her time to still her breath and pumping heart, occasionally taking a long draught from her water canteen.

Once she was rested enough, Cordelia stood again and reluctantly decided to finish with fencing practice.  Leaving the staff and other supplies out of the way, she picked up Lon’qu’s sword and made her back to a clear area of the yard, standing still for a moment to remember everything she’d learned thus far.  If she focused hard enough, she could almost hear his voice over her shoulder.

_“Assume your stance...”_

She took the hilt in the both hands and brought the blade up to shoulder height.

_“Breathe deep...”_

Just as she did before starting her lance drills, she took several deep breaths, feeling the air flow through her entire body.

_“Begin.”_

Cordelia swung the sword down and forward in a powerful strike, though her footing was less sure than it was when using her weapon of choice.  In spite of her misgivings, she repeated the motion along with a few other basic sequences, and at first she refrained from even attempting the more complicated series, the fear of failure holding her back.

_“Don’t falter, Cordelia.  Focus!”_

She shook her head and steeled her mind, mentally pushing back against the doubts clawing at her, whispering that she would not succeed.  She reached deep within her memories and tried to recall the feeling of strong hands on her shoulders and a deep voice ghosting in her ear.

_“It’s alright.  I've got your back...”_

The redhead set her jaw and grit her teeth, determined to break through this long-standing funk.  She tightened her abdominal muscles and raised the sword.

“Hey-a, Cordelia!  Long time, no see!  How ya been?”

She stopped mid-swing at the loud voice calling her, nearly tripping in the process since her stance wasn't solid and her body weight was not evenly distributed.  She turned to address the source of the interruption.  The Falcon Knight smiled at the blond Berserker headed her way, a massive ax casually draped across his broad shoulders.  “Oh.  Hello, Vaike.  I haven’t seen you for some time.”

He offered a toothy grin in response, his tongue peeking out playfully.  “I know, right?  Betcha been bored outta your skull without Teach around to liven things up.”

She chuckled at his assumption.  “Well, it’s certainly been more peaceful.  Where have you been lately?”

Vaike halted his approach a few feet away from her, shifting his weapon to one hand, and planting the other on his hip importantly.  “Joint escort mission with Ferox.  Some rich, snooty nobles hired us to see ‘em safely out of Plegia.”

“I see.”  She began to swing her sword casually while she listened, more or less concentrating on remembering the feel and balance of the shorter weapon.

He puffed out his chest proudly.  “Yeah... they wanted a buncha knights to take ‘em, but Robin said me and Lon’qu were all the muscle they needed.”

Cordelia dropped the wooden blade at hearing her friend’s name.  For a reason she had yet to pinpoint, it invoked an anguished yearning within her, poignant and deep, similar to how she once felt for Chrom, but somehow far more intense.  She tried to tell herself that she should not be concerned with how he was faring, but it was often for naught.  Since she could not bring herself to see him, news of him sated her the way a sip of water quenched a dying man in the desert.  She savored it and was grateful, but it never really satisfied.  

“You were with Lon’qu?” she inquired, trying not to blush and hoping that he wouldn't notice.  She kneeled to retrieve the weapon.  “Um... how is he?”

Vaike shrugged.  “Beats me. Didn't talk much.  Same as ever I guess, ‘cept maybe a little more surly.  I tried to take him out drinking to celebrate a job well done, but he just wouldn't cooperate.  I tell ya, that guy does NOT know how to have fun,” he prattled with barely a breath between each phrase.  “But anyway, whatcha been up to?  Sword practice?  Haven’t seen you do that for a while.”

She tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder, hoping to nonchalantly find a way to ask him more about Lon’qu without him reading too much into it.  “Yes, well... I thought it was about time to brush up on fencing.”

The Berserker chuckled.  “S’pose it never hurts.  Hey!  Ya want ‘ol Teach to take ya through the motions?”

Cordelia quirked an eyebrow.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren't axes more your area of expertise?”

“Aw please!  The Vaike’s master of ‘em all!”  

She giggled at his boast.  “And If I recall, weren't YOU the one that needed basic combat training in the middle of the Plegian War?”

The blond scowled in annoyance.  “Tch... whatever!  Look, didn't you say that we all needed to be at our best and to help each other out?  If I help you, I help everyone, right?”

To say that she was a little shocked that the Shepherd’s most forgetful resident could remember something she said a long time  ago would be an understatement.  It was almost a little touching, actually... the thought that he may have taken her words to heart.  “Why, Vaike!  It seems I've underestimated you.  Your memory really does extend beyond ten seconds.”

“Hey!”

Cordelia laughed, unable to remember the last time since she had done so.  “Forgive me.  It’s merely a jape.”  She couldn't pass up the opportunity to poke fun at him; he was just too easy to rile up at times.  However, if she wanted information about Lon’qu, she should probably make an effort to stroke his ego a little.  He could be very compliant if one appealed to his unfounded narcissism.  “You’re right.  I suppose I could use some advice.  Will you teach me... Teach?”

He made a show of considering, scratching the stubble on his chin and looking up at the sky.  An unmistakable smirk stretched across his face.  “Well.... since you asked so nicely, I suppose I COULD give you a few pointers.  All right!  Class is in session!”  He glanced around the yard.  “Hold on one sec...”

Vaike threw his ax off to the side and ran over to the bench where she’d left her own items.  He picked up her staff, gave it a couple of swings for good measure, and hurried back.  “Okay.  Ready!”

She sighed at his predictability.  “Straight to dueling, huh?  No demonstration?”

He laughed.  “Nah.  Practicing and learning the theories are great, but sometimes you just gotta jump right in and pick it up as you go.”  He spun it impressively a few times, and took his own unique dueling posture.  “So who goes first?”

Cordelia did not move just yet.  “A lance against a sword?  You know that’s hardly fair.”

He frowned and avoided her gaze.  “No... what’s not fair is giving you ANY kind of advantage in a fight.”

The reluctant compliment made her smile appreciatively.  “Very well.”  She settled into Lon’qu’s myrmidon stance, simultaneously attempting to calculate not only her physical movements in the duel, but also carefully crafted questions that might give her some indication of how her friend had been.  “I can do this,” she told herself.  She raised her voice to shout, “Face me!” to the Teach.

The Falcon Knight charged, bringing her weapon down in a downward vertical strike upon the staff, knowing quite well that the move would be parried.  She needed to keep him on his toes until he gave her an opening to get in range.  She would have to employ quicker assaults to get beneath the longer weapon meant to keep an adversary at bay.

She attacked again with several vertical and horizontal slashes, mixing them up by angle and direction, but Vaike kept the advantage.  He easily anticipated them and reacted accordingly, as well as taking any available chance to hit her back.  He kept his strength in check, but each smack was still hard enough that she’d be bruised later.  It didn't bother her; it was all part of training.  

What did annoy her was that nothing she tried was working.  It wasn't long before she began to try out some of the more advanced and complicated sequences she remembered and felt comfortable with, but even they could not penetrate the safety bubble created merely by the length of the staff.

She increased her speed, aimed both high and low, and still Vaike parried and blocked remarkably effectively.  The somewhat competitive part her was cursing the time she spent helping him learn the basics of army combat during the war.  Finally, she managed to duck under one of his own counterattacks and advanced, their weapons locking in the center of their chests to push against each other.  She grit her teeth and tried to throw him off balance in the hopes that she could get in a few hits of her own.

But all those over-sized muscles weren't just for show.  The Berserker was as solid as a wall and didn't budge an inch.  With a confident smirk, he shoved back and she stumbled and fell.  He jumped on the opportunity and pointed the staff at her neck, simulating what would be a kill strike in a real fight.

“Looks like Teach just got tenure!” he concluded, grinning idiotically.  

Cordelia growled and smacked the weapon away from herself.  Vaike laughed and held out a hand to help her up, which she grudgingly accepted.  “Looks like I’m more out of practice than I thought,” she consented.

He shook his head.  “Nah, I don’t think so.  Your form looked as flawless as ever.”

She crossed her arms, irritably.  “If that’s the case, why couldn't I get a hit in?  I've used all the same moves as Lon’qu, and I know for a fact that you've never bested _him_ in a duel.”  It was another thing she’d always admired about her friend.  Very few Shepherds had ever been able to defeat him in a fair fight.  They challenged him certainly, but only a handful could claim victory over him.

“Yeah well, you ain't him,” Vaike pointed out, grumbling at the reminder.  “Those moves he showed you are great, but you don’t have the strength to pull off some of ‘em effectively.”

“Excuse me?” Cordelia snarled, deeply offended.

For once, he caught on quick enough to realize his mistake.  He took a few steps back and waved his hands.  “I’m not sayin’ you’re not strong.  Believe me, you ‘n Sully have made that especially clear.  And I haven’t forgotten all those times you put me through the wringer.  I just mean that you and Lon’qu... I mean, men and women in general really, we’re not built the same.  Us guys got more upper body strength, so we can hold our ground better or overwhelm our opponents more than you can.”

“There are a number of dead Plegian soldiers that would disagree,” she debated threateningly.

He growled.  “Yeah, but you didn't have to rely on brute force to do it.  Come on, Cordelia!  You’re the one always harping on about fightin’ smarter.  So start using your head!  You ladies got way more LOWER body strength.  Plus, you’re more flexible and balanced, and you’re way faster.”

“So?”

“SO... you gotta play to your strengths!  It’s great that you learned all these cool moves from Lon’qu, but ya gotta make ‘em your own!  If you can’t pull it off effectively, you have to mix it up to get the same result.”

Cordelia blinked rapidly in surprise, shocked by Vaike’s considerably resourceful assessment.  In fact, she was certain that she herself had offered similar advice to many of the new recruits as they adapted to her training regime.  How could she have missed such an obvious solution?  Had she really been so preoccupied with her students that she’d grown dull to her own processes?  Or could it be that by the silencing the passion in her soul, she had also quelled the drive and ingenuity she had been so well known for?

“Wow, ‘Teach’.  That actually makes a lot of sense,” she conceded.  Then she smirked.  “How did you come to possess such keen insight?”

He laughed and shrugged.  “Hey, the Vaike has ALWAYS been this awesome.  It’s not my fault no one ever notices.”

She raised an eyebrow skeptically.  “Uh-huh.”

He kept grinning convincingly, but eventually gave way under her scrutinizing stare.  “Okay fine.  I tried my hand as a Trickster a while back, but uh... it didn't work out so great.  Lon’qu’s actually the one who gave me that advice.  Sounded like he had to figure that out the hard way himself when he was training with Gregor.”

Cordelia blushed and looked away, thankful for that little tidbit of information.  It was also encouraging to know that her own instructor likewise struggled at times.

“Ya wanna go again?” Vaike asked.  He picked up her practice sword and held it out to her.  

She was about to agree, but hesitated when she noticed an exasperated Sage heading their way.  “Oh, hello Miriel.  How are you?”

The Shepherds’ resident scholar adjusted her glasses, as they had become slightly askew during her hurried stride.  “I was previously immersed in several immensely stimulating and potentially enlightening experiments.  Alas, I was inconvenienced to investigate the cause of your delay in meeting with the queen.”

“Pardon me?”

Next to her, the blond started to back away from the women as inconspicuously as possible.  His efforts were entirely in vain.

“...Vaike?  Did you forget to tell me something?” Cordelia asked, anger building.

Miriel shook her head in disgust.  “You were instructed to locate her and relay a message, not engage in combat scenarios.”

He crossed his arms and huffed.  “Hey, I was getting to that, okay?” he defended weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “So... yeah.  Robin sent me to find you, Cordelia.  She wants to see you in her office right away.”

“Blast it, Vaike!!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly super exciting, but you know...
> 
> Two more chapters and I’ll bring Lon’qu back into the picture. I promise. Until next time!


	16. Disturbing the Dust

**Disturbing the Dust**  

Cordelia sprinted to the castle gates, mentally cursing her inability to run efficiently.  It was one the few disciplines she had yet to improve on, and in truth, it seemed superfluous since most of her time was spent on the back of a pegasus.  It rarely occurred to her that it might prove advantageous in everyday situations like this.  Of course, if Vaike hadn't forgotten to tell her about the meeting in the first place, she wouldn't be running late.

She slowed to a hurried walk as she entered the palace, remembering her place and not wishing to embarrass herself.  She knew well the way to Robin’s personal office and saw herself there, politely dismissing the various guards and servants that offered assistance.  Down a few hallways, up a flight of stairs, and she was there. 

The door was closed and all was quiet, which was a little unusual.  Robin always seemed more at home outdoors, and resisted being confined in an enclosed space for too long.  Even though she was most often seen bent over an old book or map, she enjoyed going for walks or socializing with others the most.  While she had freely and knowingly accepted the responsibilities that came with marrying Chrom and taking the title as queen, she still preferred to take an active approach to life and relationships.  As such, she normally kept her office door wide open, even during meetings, unless the matter of discussion was highly personal or confidential.  

Cordelia took a moment to calm her breath, straighten her clothes, and run her fingers through her damp hair.  She hated that she didn't have time to fix herself up a little, but it was only Robin after all.  She never was one for formality.  Having done the best she could, there was nothing for it but to accept the situation and knock.

“Who is it?” the familiar voice asked on the other side of the door.

“It’s me, Cordelia.  I was told you wanted to see me?”

She could hear footsteps walking around.  “Right.  Just a moment, please.”  She waited obediently, listening to the rustling sounds beyond until Robin consented, “Alright.  You can come in now.”

The Falcon Knight opened the door and stepped inside, glancing around briefly at the organized mess that made up the tactician’s personal study.  The room was spacious enough for half the Shepherds to file in for group meetings, but it was as warm and cozy as a sitting room.  One wall was composed primarily of tall windows that overlooked the barracks/training yard, and bathed the room in sunlight.  The other three were lined with bookshelves that were virtually overflowing with books, tomes, and scrolls of every size and shape imaginable.  

There were a few comfortable chairs scattered throughout the room.  Two were near the windows and four more were arranged around a small table primarily used for tea and snacks.  The last three were crowded around an ornate L-shaped desk, which was littered with more dusty books, loose scraps of paper, and writing utensils.  The Halidom’s strategist and queen was seated behind it.

Robin leaned back in her seat and smiled warmly.  She appeared to be wearing a sleeveless light blue dress, but it was a little difficult to be sure; her tactician’s robe was partially draped across her body and over one shoulder, covering an arm.  Her long hair was pulled up into a casual ponytail, and her eyes, though a little tired, were glowing happily.

“There you are!  I was starting to worry something was wrong when you didn't come right away.”

She smiled sincerely and bowed to her superior, following protocol while knowing full well that Robin preferred not to be treated as anything more than an equal, at least when it came to friends.  “Forgive me, milady.  The messenger failed to inform me of your request.”

Robin rubbed her temple with her free visible hand and sighed in resignation, eyes closing momentarily.  “I knew I shouldn't have sent Vaike.”  She shook her head, and then gestured to one of the chairs on the other side of her desk.  “Anyway, why don’t you close the door and have a seat?”

Cordelia obliged, and once she was settled, she looked over her comrade again.  She was shifting awkwardly, and there was a somewhat unfamiliar, but soft noise breaking the silence.

“Sorry,” she said at her questioning look.  “Lucina was getting fussy, and I wasn't sure what was keeping you, or how long you’d be.”

“What?  O-oh.”  She flushed a little.  “Do you want me to come back later?”

The nursing mother waved her hand indifferently.  “No.  We’re both women, and I’m covered enough.  Unless it makes you uncomfortable...”

The redhead shook her head, even surprising herself a little.  She’d always been more on the modest side, but she’d lightened up considerably over the last two years.  “No, it’s alright.”

“Good.”  Robin observed her quietly for a moment, thinking.  “You look well.  How are you doing?”

Cordelia fidgeted, puzzled by the question.  “Um... I’m fine.  Why do you ask?”

She chuckled affectionately.  “I haven’t seen you in a while, and I wanted to check in with you.”  She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her wide grin softening.  “You know, sometimes I miss the days of being on the road all the time, when all of the Shepherds were together.  Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely hated the war, all the fighting and the bloodshed.  But... I miss everyone.  I miss the camaraderie and working together for the greater good.”

The pegasus knight felt relief wash over her at hearing her friend say aloud what she herself had been feeling for a long time.  It was a weight off her shoulders to know that she was not the only one feeling a bit lost.  “I agree. I mean, we all desire peace, and I’m very happy we've achieved it.  But it’s been difficult adjusting to being home again, not having to sleep with a weapon next to my bed...”

Robin nodded.  “Or being able to sleep at all, actually...” she added.

“Yes!  And every day was unique and thrilling in a way.”

The tactician gestured to the stacks of loose sheets across her desk.  “And devoid of all this paperwork to accompany it.”

Cordelia looked down at her lap, hands fisting in the fabric of her tunic.  “And... there was always something to do, and someone to talk to.”  She couldn't help but picture Lon’qu as she said this.

Robin’s expression was one of compassionate agreement.  She struggled to lean across the table to hold out her hand.  Cordelia hesitated for a second, then reached over and took it.

“There’s always someone to talk to,” she whispered, squeezing her fingers.  After a moment, she let go and slouched in her chair, shrugging her concealed shoulder.  “And there’s plenty of ways to keep busy as well.  Speaking of which, I heard you practicing the harp a few days ago.  It was beautiful.”

Cordelia grinned appreciatively.  “Thank you.  I've recently discovered that I enjoy it much more than I once did.”  She hadn't really stopped to consider it before, but the months of peace _had_ given her ample time to explore other hobbies beyond the battlefield.  She dabbled in jewelry-making on occasion, and had become proficient in knitting.  She also found herself approached by half the male Shepherds at regular intervals with requests for haircuts (referrals courtesy of Gaius), and men and women alike wanted her to go shopping with them.  Since she and Catria were often running errands on behalf of others, she had developed a good sense of where to find things at a reasonable price, and she had learned to haggle rather efficiently.  Still, playing the harp remained one of her favorite activities.  “I've even thought about writing my own compositions, but I still have a great deal to learn before I’m ready to share any of them.”

“That’s wonderful!” Robin complimented.  Her face scrunched in thought, and she peaked beneath her cloak.  “Oh, looks like she’s done.  Hold on a moment.” With impressive dexterity, she maneuvered her swaddled infant daughter from under the robe while keeping herself covered.  Then she positioned Lucina over her shoulder to burp her, cradling her lovingly and very softly tapping her back.

Cordelia watched the young mother whisper encouragingly in fascination.  She’d only seen the princess a few times, and just once up close, shortly after her birth.  Additionally, she hadn't witnessed Robin’s maternal side at all until now.  It was strange to see the battle hardened warrior with a mind like a hair-trigger trap cooing melodiously.  The love in her eyes and the happy glow in her whole aura was undeniable.  Her obvious joy was contagious, and she couldn't help but share in it, even with the tiny twinge of envy buried deep within her heart.

With enough coaxing, Lucina finally released a tiny belch, and Robin kissed her fuzzy little head.  “There we go,” she mumbled, shifting the child to rock her for a nap.  

Silence fell in the room, and she wondered if she was still needed for something besides idle chat.  “Um... Robin?  Would you like me to leave?”

“Hmm? Oh, no not yet.”  Her mood reverted to the professionalism she was more commonly known for in meetings.  She scooted her chair closer to the desk and rifled through the various documents littering her work space with one hand, eventually pulling out a roster manifest.  “I did have another reason for calling you here.  I’d like an update on the new units you've been working with.”

“Of course.  What would you like to know?”

For the next half hour, the two of them discussed the progress achieved in recruiting and training new soldiers for the Pegasus Knights.  Their numbers had increased considerably so that they were almost equal to what they had before the Plegian War.  Unfortunately, only a third of these individuals were completely ready for true combat.  The rest were eager, but inexperienced, and Cordelia strongly felt that they would be more of a liability than an asset in any serious battles.

Robin chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, a nervous habit that had receded once the war was over.  It was disconcerting to see it making a comeback, along with her frustration with trying to take notes while holding the baby, who wanted attention and refused to be still.  She finally decided that attempting to multitask at the moment was too difficult.  She set her writing utensil aside and sighed.  “Cordelia, would you mind holding Lucina while I readjust and jot all this down?”

She fidgeted and met the queen’s pleading gaze uncertainly.  “What?  Oh, I don’t know...”  She didn't want to admit that she’d never held an infant before, much less one of royal blood.  “Perhaps I could fetch a nurse instead?”  Surely there should be one close at hand for just such a situation.  

Robin shook her head and shrugged off her misgivings.  “You’ll be fine.  It’s just for a few minutes.  Here...”  Without waiting for another protest, she stood from her seat and came to kneel in front of her subordinate.  “Just keep her head supported.”  She insistently but carefully set the squirming bundle in her hesitant arms, her eyes and smile shining with full trust and affirmation.  “See? Not so hard...”  She did not allot her time to resist, but retreated back to her own chair.  She tucked her arms beneath the robe to fix her dress and then threw it aside, her chest fully concealed in her top again.  Now clothed and comfortable, she resumed writing.

While she was preoccupied with recording the main points of their conversation, Cordelia gazed down at the curious child in her arms.  Lucina had inherited her father’s beautiful blue eyes, one of which was uniquely patterned with the Brand of the Exalt.  She also had the same hair color, and much of her other features, though adorably squishy with baby fat, seemed to resemble Chrom more than Robin.

She didn't have much experience with children, and as a soldier, she hadn't really given much thought to being a mom.  The only family she had ever really identified with in her youth was the sisterhood shared by the Pegasus Knights, so she had no concrete example of how a mother should feel or act.  But looking at this little miracle, the product of a romance she herself had never known, inspired her to dream again.  She felt emotions stirring in her starving heart that she hadn't experienced before and could not appropriately name.  It wasn't quite love in any form that she had ever encountered, but there was a growing affection, and longing.  Moreover, as she tentatively allowed Lucina to take hold of her finger in her little hand, she felt a sense of awe and smiled fondly.

A few quiet minutes passed before she realized that Robin had ceased writing and was watching them both tenderly.  “Strange, isn't it?” she said in a low voice.  “In such a short while, one can develop a multitude of feelings for someone you barely know.”  She inclined her body closer to observe at her daughter in utter amazement.  “Love, joy, gratitude, adoration... fear... pain...”  Her expression changed to one of grave significance.  “And... the overwhelming desire to protect that person, no matter the cost.”

Something in her tone was rather unnerving.  “Robin?”

She looked away and stood up suddenly, moving to stand by the window so that she could gaze out while she thought.  Cordelia followed and stood beside her, taking extra care not to disturb Lucina.  From their vantage, they had a clear view of the training yard.  At the moment, there seemed to be a bit of a crowd gathered.  When it shifted, they could see that the source of the excitement was Chrom and Vaike.  They were dueling, and both women laughed, appreciating that there were some things that would likely always stay the same.

For her part, Cordelia still felt a dull ache in her heart at seeing Chrom.  It was no longer obsessive and sharp; time had indeed worked its magic on her, but there was still a shadow upon the heart she had been trying to silence.  It was like an old war wound that would act up at random intervals, with a hurt that was prevalent not because of actual pain, but the memory of it.

For this, she was extremely grateful, because there were quite a few occasions when it had been overwhelmingly difficult.  Much as she tried, she could not will herself to stop loving him.  The unassailable truth that he would never return her feelings or be a part of her life like she wished, along with the loss and emptiness following the war, fostered the perfect conditions for harboring and feeding into her loneliness.  She had felt utterly empty, devoid of the singular purpose that everyone previously shared.  Even though she still had responsibilities which anchored her, she had become disconnected from herself and others.  The void which had stolen all her joy became so all-consuming at times, that her thoughts and dreams became plagued with the thought of death, and the relief it might bring her.

However, the knowledge that her deceased sisters had sacrificed their lives to save hers, and timely interactions with her friends, prevented her from ever acting upon those oppressive feelings.  Over time, she gradually learned to focus on the moment at hand, remembering the past but not dwelling on it, and to cease fretting over a future that had yet to be written.  Still, once in a while, it took everything she had to just breathe, and remember where she was.  

It was hard, to be sure, but it had gotten better.  And she was fortunate in this regard; there had been others who could not say the same, soldiers who had been too burdened with vivid and horrific experiences, and were unable to cope with the change brought about by peace.  Theirs was a crueler fate by far.

Robin wordlessly turned to the Falcon Knight and held out her arms for her beloved child.  Cordelia returned the girl to her mother and watched as she held her close and kissed her face.  “Chrom... Lucina... I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,”  she murmured.  Then she met confused ruby irises and said, “The same goes for you, for ALL of the Shepherds, and the citizens of Ylisse.  Do you remember what I said to you during the war?  I still stand by it.  No matter what, I will do whatever it takes to protect my precious loved ones, my family.”

“Robin, what aren't you telling me?” Cordelia asked, deep concern and even panic permeating her mind.

The somber queen looked far out over the horizon.  After what seemed like a long time, she barely whispered gradually, “My nightmares, and the headaches, have returned.”

Cordelia was struck speechless at first.  Everyone, including her, had bad dreams and memories from the war, mental scars that were far slower to heal than those in the body.  But as her royal guard, she was one of the few who was privy to the fact that Robin had very unusual and disturbing night terrors, often accompanied by debilitating migraines.  She never disclosed the nature or content of them to anyone, except perhaps to her husband.  The only thing that she knew is that they seemed to foretell events that have yet to come to pass, a theory that had not been tested, but there was little doubt that there was something more than idle fears to them.

“What does it mean?” she inquired.

The tactician’s brow furrowed and she frowned deeply.  “That our hard-won peace is frightfully tentative.”  She drew in a shaky breath and hugged her baby even closer.  “I can feel it all around me.  Something is coming.”

“What’s coming?”

Their eyes locked once more, and anger and dread flashed in Robin’s.  “War,” she stated firmly.  She instantly returned to her desk and sorted through her tactical manuals, opening a few and spreading them all across her desk.  Some of them generated little clouds of dust at being disturbed again after having been put aside for so long.  “I don’t know when, but I’m sure of it.  And I intend to make certain that Ylisse is ready.”

Cordelia came to stand in front of the furniture again.  Before she could ask, Robin straightened and resumed her pragmatic air.  “You've done an exemplary job recruiting and training the new units, but there are some things that can only be learned in the field.  From now on, every patrol and combat mission will include no less than two Pegasus Knights, preferably ones with little to no battle experience.  As a precaution, each will be paired with a veteran soldier with complimentary skill sets or class, so that each unit is relatively balanced.

“Yes, milady,” she replied.  Naturally, she was a little concerned for her own subordinates’ safely, but neither Chrom nor Robin would needlessly jeopardize the soldiers lives without the appropriate plans or countermeasures in place.  There were risks, certainly, but they were always very carefully calculated risks.

“Good.”  Having concluded their primary business, she grinned again, but Cordelia recognized it as the bold, dauntless mask she wore whenever she did not want anyone else to see the fear and stress brimming beneath the surface.  Everyone had grown in some capacity since the Plegian War, some more than others.  But another thing that remained unaltered was her determination to show nothing but utter confidence to those she led.  “Well then, we’ll go over mission specifics as they come.  But for now, you’re dismissed.”  Her smile was far more genuine, albeit saddened, as she began to pace the room, rocking Lucina and drifting off into her own mind.

Cordelia bowed once more and left, closing the door behind her and walking slowly back to the training yard.  It was all rather nostalgic, to see Robin so utterly determined to protect those under her charge, all of whom she deeply loved, in one way or another.  It had earned her the respect and affection of all the citizens of Ylisse, the perfect partner and wife for Chrom, even when she herself expressed doubts about her worthiness to be queen.  But it was that blend of humility and confidence that everyone admired.

And yet, it wasn't fair for her to take on such a heavy responsibilities alone.  She had to measure the worth and value of human lives, and loathed the sacrifice a single soldier.  It was for that very reason that the Shepherds were content to place their safety in her hands, and this in turn would increase the pressure that Robin felt.  It was a vicious circular cycle, with no easy solution.

Cordelia understood this, and her own love for her friend compelled her to do whatever she could to ease her burden, just as she did for Chrom... for all the Shepherds for that matter.  She too hadn't changed in this regard over the last two years, but she did get better at caring for herself as well, at least physically.  Therefore, she immediately began to try to think of practical ways she could help out, aside from her usual duties.

She sat down on the bench where she had previously left her supplies and observed the exercise yard.  Since she’d left to go meet with Robin, the number of people practicing or sparring had increased.  She spotted some of her old comrades, heroes of the Plegian War, mixed in with nameless warriors from nearly every class type, and watching them made her smile.  She remembered her leader mentioning something about unbreakable bonds more than once, invisible ties that anchored and grew in the hearts of her friends, intricately woven among all the Shepherds.  

Cordelia understood it perfectly, for she too loved her companions and considered them her family.  And even though her own life wasn't precisely as she imagined it would be, she would willingly, and without a second thought, do all in her power to protect the lives and happiness of those she cared for.

She picked up the oaken sword she’d been practicing with earlier and ran a finger down it’s dull edge, reflecting and wishing that Lon’qu was with her.  He’d always been a good listener whenever she needed to bounce ideas off of another person, or even just act as a body so she could think out loud.  And though his words were few, he was often quite insightful, offering a different yet easily comprehensible perspective to various issues.  What was it that he once said to her?

_“...To protect the ones you love.  There is no greater purpose than that, no desire for strength that could equal it.  It is that singular goal which will allow you to achieve more than you can possibly imagine.”_

Could it be so simple?  Had she just been over-thinking everything?  Perhaps if she was simply more diligent in using her skills to protect those close to her, instead of being consumed with achieving individual perfection, maybe Robin would feel more at ease.  She would be able to trust that everyone would rely on one another, instead of just her daring plans.  

The Shepherds functioned best as a cohesive team but Cordelia, along with others, were often preoccupied with honing their own abilities (which was certainly important).  It was easy to take for granted that weaknesses did not have to be entirely overcome, as long as one was paired with another whose own strengths made up for it.  Robin knew this, which must why she assigned units the way she did, but if everyone else understood it too, she wouldn't have to spend so much time on minute details and contingency plans.  Undoubtedly, that could decrease the burden she placed on herself.

It might open up all kinds of new possibilities for Cordelia as well.  If she would willingly accept her imperfections and decide that she did not _need_ to master every skill, she could appreciate and be proud of the ones she did have.  She might not feel so guarded around others; perhaps she would even allow more people into the deeper parts of her being.

_“Protect the ones you love, and everything will fall into place...”_

If she wasn't so concerned with protecting herself, within reason of course, she could more effectively protect her comrades, the ones she loved.  And if she stopped comparing herself to others and think herself wanting, she may even break free of the endless stagnation in every aspect of her life.  

It was just a theory, perhaps only wishful thinking at best.  But the only way to know for sure was to jump right in and test the waters.  She would put forth full effort, accept whatever mistakes she made in the process, and ultimately learn from them.

Cordelia slowly smiled, nodding to herself, and stood up.  With sword in hand, she marched across the training yard, expertly weaving her way through the various sparing soldiers to seek out one in particular.  Without much effort, she found him laying on the ground, covered in sweat and dust, grumbling about having lost yet another match to Chrom while several others took no small pleasure in pointing out his mistakes.

She halted a few feet away from him.  “Hey Vaike!”  She waited for him to sit up and acknowledge her call, scratching his head in confusion.  She resumed a swordsman’s fight stance and smirked.  “I think I’m ready for that rematch!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	17. Closed Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, if for some reason you haven’t during your game play, it may help to read/watch Cordelia’s supports with Robin, Henry, and Ricken for a little background on this chapter, as well as her short conversation with Caeda in the the Rogues & Redeemers 3 Xenologue. Its not necessary to understand though.

**Closed Chapter**

Much to everyone’s dismay, Robin’s grim prediction came true.  A few weeks after Cordelia’s conversation with her, Khan Flavia sent an emissary to request a summit, at which she informed them of an impending invasion from the country of Valm, spearheaded by Walhart the Conqueror.  Their plight was further enlightened by Virion and his vassal, a beautiful and poised Wyvern Rider named Cherche.  On her lord’s behalf, she explained the nature of the growing threat, and the inevitable war that would soon reach their shores to decimate them all, if swift action wasn't taken to answer the challenge.  Ultimately, everyone agreed that the best course was to take the fight to Valm itself, thereby sparing their own lands from yet another devastating conflict.

The events that immediately followed the declaration of war were utterly bizarre, to say the least.  After securing Port Ferox from the first wave of the Valmese invasion fleet, their leaders divided their forces to prepare for their impending departure.  Basilio returned to the Arena to rally and organize more troops, as well as send messengers to recall a few of the Shepherds who had taken to wandering paths after the Plegian affair.  This included Gregor and his wife Panne, Nowi, Anna the merchant, and Lon’qu (who had apparently been traveling with the aforementioned couple recently to further his skills with the sword under the Mercenary’s tutelage).  Flavia remained at the port with enough soldiers to defend it until everyone regrouped.  Finally, Chrom, Robin, Lissa, and the royal guard headed to Plegia to meet with its new monarch and request aid in the form of ships.

This led to the first of several unexpected revelations, for not only was the new ruler Validar, head of the Grimleal and a man who everyone knew to be dead, but he later revealed himself to be Robin’s father.  At his side during the meeting was the deadly seductress, Aversa, as well as a hierophant who appeared to be identical to Ylisse’s queen in every way, save for the malicious glint in her eyes.  Though they had been successful in procuring the use of the Plegian navy, the entire ordeal had left them with a plethora of unanswered questions.

Shortly after that, they were ambushed by Risen on the way to rendezvous at the port, and only escaped certain death thanks to the warning and timely aid of a curiously cheerful Dark Mage by the name of Henry.  He was an oddity in and of himself, but there was hardly time to adjust to one new addition.  For in the very same battle, Chrom was saved by the ever mysterious Marth.  “Marth” dropped an even bigger surprise on them by claiming to be Lucina, the young adult version of Chrom and Robin’s daughter from a not-too-distant, apocalyptic future.  She and some of her friends, likewise offspring of various Shepherds, had traveled back in time to do all that they could to prevent the dark nightmare that their world would soon become.

The royal couple took it well, accepting their daughter with open hearts and arms.  No one doubted her; the Brand of the Exalt in her left eye and a Parallel Falchion at her side as proof enough of her identity.  Nonetheless, it was a difficult concept to swallow, and only served to increase the Shepherd’s unease.

Even so, battle and voyage preparations took precedence over questionable bloodlines and time travel anomalies.  Thus, almost everyone was content to focus on packing the convoy, polishing armor, honing their bodies, and whetting their weapons.  Speculative whispers provided an unwelcome white noise for the tedious chores, but a sharp glare from Chrom and a swift reprimand from Sir Frederick kept everyone on task.

If Cordelia was honest with herself, she was almost glad to back in the thick of combat, where emotions gave way to bloodlust and the only thing that mattered was keeping herself and her comrades alive.  Being so close to Chrom and Robin more consistently again, now with a grown Lucina in tow, was a bit of a killjoy for her.  She did not despair, but she did find herself indulging in a little self-pity.  Thankfully, there was no room for unmet longings and gnawing doubt when faced with an enemy hell-bent on claiming her life.  As such, she was secretly thrilled to take the field with lance in hand, and let the heat of the fray override all else.

Likewise, it was difficult to feel lonely with comrades so close at hand, ready to share a laugh one moment and a kill the next.  Speaking of, their newest recruit was rather adept at both.  Henry was quite the enigma, possessing an empty smile and a hollow chuckle, a morbid yet wise wit, and an insatiable thirst for blood and battle.  Many of the troops found him unsettling and mistrusted him, but the rag-tag Shepherds were accustomed to quirky characters joining their ranks.

Cordelia paused from grooming Catria to glance over at him.  Currently, he was sitting on a tall stack of crates filled with supplies, kicking his legs idly while (presumably) watching a flock of birds fly overhead.  Their group had already made it safely back to the port and were awaiting the arrival of the ships and Basilio’s reinforcements.  They had a few days at least until then, so she had been using the extra time to get to know him.  

She smiled as she watched him fiddle with his new scarf out of the corner of her eye.  That garment was originally a gift intended for Chrom; she had started knitting it before his engagement to Robin, while she had been away with her team in the wilderness of Regna Ferox.  It took her a long time to finish, mostly because of her meticulous nature and a lack of motivation after the marriage.  However, she did not like leaving things unfinished (with some exceptions), and finally completed it far too late to be of any service to her original intentions.  Giving it to Henry had been a spur-of-the-moment, but wise decision, an ice breaker of sorts when they first met.

For his part, he was unusually friendly (for a Dark Mage) and had so far been exceedingly kind to her.  He did not speak much about himself, other than to sing the praises of dark magic and all that it could accomplish, including a curse that could rid her of the last remaining traces of affection for her unrequited love.  His offer to cast said hex had been extremely tempting, but she decided to decline.  For better or for worse, her unspoken feelings for the king had helped to shape her into the person that she was today.  That individual was far from perfect, but she had come to love her for the most part, flaws and all.

Even though she refused a magic-based solution, Henry would not be deterred from cheering her up.  When Robin and Lucina asked her to come along with them to the nearest market to pick up a few forgotten items, he had insisted on going along.  The result of that trip was that Cordelia returned with several new outfits and weapons for herself, in addition to the things they had specifically set out to retrieve.  He was a fun and patient shopping partner, and she was surprised at how much she enjoyed herself.  She did not have any biological siblings, but having him around was how she imagined having a little brother would be.  He was helpful and excitable, and had his own strange way of making light of dark situations.

Henry seemed to sense her looking at him and abruptly hopped down from his perch, landing with an odd cat-like grace on his feet, the ever-present smile plastered on his face.  “Hey, Cordelia?  Can I ask you something?”

She smiled and nodded as she resumed brushing Catria’s hair.  “Of course, Henry.  What is it?”

He strolled over and gave her pegasus a pat on the back.  “I was just wondering why you’re so obsessed with Chrom.  Did he pull some ‘Prince Charming’ routine on you?  Did he rescue you from some monsters?  He seems nice enough, I guess, but I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Cordelia’s hands stilled, but she was able to stop herself from dropping her brush in alarm.  She blushed fervently.  “H-huh?!  Ah ha ha... what makes you think Chrom is the married man I spoke of before?”

Henry’s devious grin widened.  “Was it supposed to be a secret?  ‘Cuz it seems like _everyone_ knows about it.”

“Everyone?!”

“Tee Hee!  Yeah.  Well, except for Chrom, maybe.  That’s what I heard when I asked around.  But even if I hadn't, you weren't exactly hiding it well.  It was pretty obvious.”

“Oh gods...” Cordelia shut her eyes tightly as though wincing in pain, realizing now how utterly foolish it was to think that her feelings were a closely guarded secret.  After all, the only two people she’d ever outright discussed it with was Frederick and Sumia, neither of which were the type to gossip about something so personal.  Therefore, it was reasonable to conclude that Henry had indeed learned of it on his own, and his assessment was probably accurate.  The young man was unabashedly honest and straightforward.  

She groaned and rested her forehead against Catria’s flank dejectedly.

“Aww... cheer up!  It’s not so bad.  It doesn't bother anyone.  After all, it’s not like you’re hurting anybody but yourself.”

Cordelia grimaced at his blatant candor.  He certainly wasn't the type to hold back.  Although some found his blunt appraisals could be off-putting, it was refreshing at times, and never far from the mark.  It was about time someone was willing to call her out on her shortcomings without the “kid gloves” on, so to speak.

“So...?  Come on!  Tell me how he did it!  Did he ride in like a knight-in-shining-armor?  Sweep you off your feet at a fancy ball?”

She sighed loudly and straightened, shaking her head a little.  “Why do you want to know?”

“Remember that curse I told you about?  The one that can take your heartache away?”  At her affirmation, he adopted an authoritative stance and tone, as though instructing an eager student.  “Well, it works by reaching deep into your mind and weeding out the memory of how it began.  But it doesn't work if I don’t know where the feelings came from or how they began to take root and grow.”

She glared at him.  “Henry!  I thought we agreed... no curses!  I do not wish to forget.”

“Nya ha ha!  I know... and I still think that’s weird.  But since the bloody blues are back, I thought that we could just go through the steps in process, minus that actual curse part.  I figured talking about it at least might help some.”

“An interesting theory.”  Cordelia frowned, considering.  “However, the opposite could be true as well.  Reliving such memories may serve to deepen my fondness for him again.”

Henry’s indomitable optimism was unwavering.  “Or you might realize that he’s totally different now from the person you fell in love with.  Maybe he’s not as great as you think?  You never know, right?  Might as well go for it.  What’dya say?”

She ran a hand through her hair slowly while she deliberated and took deep, even breaths.  She had her doubts, but Henry had a point.  She knew that Chrom was a good and honorable man, with many respectable qualities, but she had not thought to stop and reflect upon why she continued to have lingering feelings.  If nothing else, perhaps revisiting what she considered to be the defining moment would at least clarify the reason she couldn't wash away this love as easily as dirt from her hands.

She sighed heavily.  “You may have a point.  Very well.”  She set her brush down on a nearby crate and wordlessly began to walk over to the dock, desiring to sit upon the edge to gaze out over the sea while they talked.  Henry followed.

A cool, salty breeze was blowing lazily, generating gentle waves that broke upon the shore and the stone walls of the port.  Gulls soared and squawked above them as they both took a seat on the edge of the dock, allowing their legs to dangle over the edge.  They were just high enough above the water’s surface that they only felt the slightest, refreshing mist on their exposed skin from the waves.

After a brief respite to enjoy the warmth of the sun on their faces, Cordelia mumbled, “I suppose I should explain the context of this a little first...”

“You mean like a backstory?  Yay!  I love backstories!” Henry interrupted.

She frowned, completely unsure as to whether or not his comment was meant to be a serious reflection of his opinion or just sarcasm.  Deciding not to ask or remark, she continued, “I was recruited by Captain Phila to become a Pegasus Knight quite young, around the time I was thirteen years old.  Both of my parents died in service to the former Exalt, you see... during the last war with Plegia and well before I could form any lasting memories of them.  After their passing, I was taken to foster by one of my parent’s comrades.”

Her lips curved upwards, but there was no joy in the expression.  “I can’t complain; I was well cared for with everything I could possibly need.  However... we were never a family, merely acquaintances who shared a common loss, and then a mutually beneficial living arrangement.”

Henry nodded to show that he was listening, since his gleeful mask could indicate otherwise.  “That’s a bummer,” he said.

Cordelia shrugged.  “It is what it is.  I am simply grateful that I was given a safe and stable place to stay.  And even if there was no real love between us, there were many good things that came of out of it.”  Her smile and the light in her eyes was much more authentic when she told him, “I met Sumia through my foster parents, and our friendship has lasted to this day.  Likewise, my interest in and desire to become a Pegasus Knight was sparked and encouraged by the stories they told.  They loved tales of bravery in battle... and glory earned through daring deeds.  I  heard many of the old sagas, but my favorites were the ones about Lady Caeda of Talys.  I had always admired her valor, skill, and kindness.  And I decided quite young that I would aspire to be just like her.”

“Caeda... she was King Marth’s wife right?  I think I remember being taught stuff about her too, from a different point of view, obviously.  She’s usually part of the spooky stories parents tell their kids to scare them into behaving.  Nya ha!”

“Really?”  She couldn't imagine the beautiful and noble queen of legend being seen as anything less than heroic, certainly not the figurehead of a horror genre.  Then again, it was not unreasonable to think that Plegia, the enemy of modern-day Ylisse, would put a different spin on history in accordance with their ancestors’ experiences with ancient Akaneia.

“Yep.  But things didn't quite work out, huh?  Sure... you’re a pegasus knight, but the wife/queen thing was a bit elusive.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes.  “Yes, thank you for summarizing my misery once more,” she snapped, dropping the pretense of patience.

Henry just laughed again, giving no indication that he was upset or intimidated by her tone.

“ANYWAY... my guardians encouraged my dreams, and at my request, gave me some measure of training that a child such as I could handle.  I took to it well, with utter determination, and practiced everything I was taught with each spare moment I was allowed.  Therefore, by the time I was ten, they declared me more fit and disciplined than veterans three times my age.”

The Plegian mage whistled.  “Impressive!”

Cordelia allowed herself to puff out her chest at that, a little proud of her childhood achievements, but not overly so.   “A few years later, they sent a message to Captain Phila.  After a thorough examination, she agreed to take me under her tutelage, and I relocated to the capitol.  I have yet to see my foster parents since our parting.  In all honesty, I probably never will, though we do exchange letters on occasion.”

She paused, using a moment of silence to metaphorically signal the end of that chapter in her life.  Then she moved on.  “I’m not sure what I was expecting going in.  I think I knew that I was going to have to work hard to prove myself, as I was well aware that soldiers of any division or class are not normally recruited so young.  I assumed that they would take more care, and treat me like the child I still was, afraid to give me difficult tasks or training.  Whatever the case may be, it was certainly not so.”

Her eyes glossed over with unshed tears and her expression was pained.  “Most of my fellow knights were supportive to a degree, but they did put me through the normal hazing routines, teasing and taunting me for my seemingly abnormal skill.  However, there were a few that treated me with no small amount of disdain.  They never hurt me physically, outside of sparring, but they made their feelings well known with extremely hurtful words and actions.”  She bit her lip, and decided not to elaborate further on the various cruel pranks, childish name calling, and general bullying she’d been subjected to in her early years.  Thankfully, Henry did not press for more details.

“So what’dya do?” he asked instead.

“Nothing at first,” she answered.  “I had been threatened with harm should I ever reveal any of it to Captain Phila or my other superiors.  However, I frequently wrote to Sumia, confiding my woes to her.  There was no one among the Pegasus Knights who I could talk to after all.”  Cordelia shook her head with a small smile upon her lips.  “She hadn't joined yet, so I think it was difficult for her to fully understand what was going on.  She simply thought that my age was the hindrance, that I was too young to keep up or relate to the elder knights.  She counseled me to continue to work hard, and to make an effort to be available and relatable to the others.  Unfortunately, things did not go according to plan.”

“In an effort to get to know them and allow them to know me, I would finish my own assigned chores and duties and quickly as possible.  Then I offered to help the others finish theirs, in the hope that working side-by-side would instill camaraderie and friendship.”

“Sounds like the Shepherds,” Henry interrupted.  “Hey... is that why nobody around here knows how to have fun?  Whenever I look around, everyone’s hard at work doing something.  At this rate, you guys’ll work yourselves into early graves and Valm won’t even have to lift a finger.  I’m all for the death part, but it doesn't sound like a fun way to go.”

Cordelia “humphed” and cleared her throat.  “Hard work builds character and strength...” she insisted, “...although... you are not far from the mark.”  She bowed her head.

“Hmm?”

“As I said, in an effort to get closer and understand the girls who hated me, I offered to help them with their daily chores.  Alas, my youth and inability to fully comprehend the cruelty of others betrayed me.  The girls accepted my offer willingly, only to take advantage of it.  It wasn't long before I was doing doing their work completely in addition to my own, while they flew off to indulge in frivolous activities.  But like the naive child I was, I allowed it.”

“Nya ha ha!  Child or not, that was a stupid thing to do,” Henry laughed.

She chuckled with him.  “Indeed.  And as a result of the extra workload, I was strained in body and mind, and it didn't take long for it to take a toll on me.  I started to become ill, but I stubbornly pushed myself to keep up with my training and the work.  I might very well have worked myself to the death, were it not for Chrom.”

The Dark Mage smirked.  “Ahh... so he DID pull the knight-in-shining-armor schtick.”

“In a manner of speaking,” the Falcon Knight mumbled with a blush.  “I was working in the Pegasus stables late one night, folding blankets and returning them to their shelves.  I needed to stand on a chair to reach them, and the height, combined with my illness made me dizzy.  I lost my balance and fell, expecting to hit my head on the stone floor, but instead, I found myself in the arms of the prince.  Apparently, he was passing through and noticed my predicament.  He caught me just in time, but I blacked out before I could really make sense of anything.”  The reddish tint to her pale cheeks deepened further.  

“Ah ha ha ha!  How cliche can you get?”

She scowled and flicked a stray lock of hair over her shoulder, waiting impatiently for Henry to settle down again.  Once he did, she went on, “I had little to no interaction with him prior to that night.  I knew OF him, could recognize him easily, but we had never spoken before.  In truth, I was rather afraid of him.  He looks so much like his father, the man who’d brought so much suffering to others, and I wrongly assumed that Chrom would share his values as well as his features.  I certainly thought he was handsome, but I knew nothing that would make me care for him as anything more than my liege-lord.  All of that changed over a few days....”

_Cordelia stirred gradually and moaned, a violent shiver wracking her frail body while a sharp throbbing sensation pounded the base of her skull and wrapped around her forehead.  She blinked slowly and her gaze fell upon a white ceiling, unlit by any light save for the dawn peaking through the cracks of closed drapes somewhere in her peripheral vision._

_“Where am I?” she murmured to herself.  She did not expect an answer, so she was rather startled when one came._

_“You’re in the infirmary,” whispered a male voice to her left._

_She jerked her head in that direction, immediately regretting the motion with a wince, and gasped quietly as ruby met blue.  “P-prince Chrom?”_

_The teenage lord set aside a book he’d been reading and scooted his chair closer to her bed.  He leaned over and smiled encouragingly.  “Hey there.  How are you feeling?”_

_“I... um... that is to say...” She didn't know if it was the fever or being in close proximity to the young royal, but she could not seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence._

_“It’s okay.  Don’t push yourself.  You need rest after all.  You’re severely overworked, Cordelia.  You need to take it easy.”_

_“You know my name?”  Cordelia felt certain that she was blushing, but thankfully, her increased temperature and the dim lighting would disguise it._

_Chrom nodded.  “I’d been hearing rumors that one of the new Pegasus Knights was unusually skilled with the lance, a combat genius really.”  If she didn't know better, she’d swear that he was blushing himself.  “So I... um... I watch you practice sometimes.  I've been trying to learn to fight with a lance too, you see, and Frederick said that I might be able to pick up some tips to help me improve.  So I've been watching all the best fighters.”  He grinned.  “You really are quite something.”_

_“I... thank you?”_

_Then his demeanor became less friendly and far more concerned, with a twinge of anger.  “It’s not just your technique I've noticed though.  You work harder than anyone I've ever seen.  While that’s certainly commendable, I think you work TOO hard.  It seems like you have a lot more chores than the other Pegasus Knights.  I spoke with Phila, and she said that all of their duties are distributed evenly.  It was only after we went over the chore roster that I realized that you've been doing the work of at least four, maybe five people, if you include yourself.  Care to explain?”_

_Cordelia froze, unsure as to what she should comment on first.  It was a big enough shock that the prince knew who she was, but that he had apparently been observing her and noticed what no one else did... how was she to react to that?  And should she tell him the reason she was taxing herself, or lie?  Was it a crime to lie to royalty?  “I... um.... well....” After some mental debate, she reluctantly offered the truth, or at least a portion of it.  “The reason I've been so busy, my lord, is because I offered to... um... lighten the burden on some of the more experienced knights, so that they could focus on their training... a-and missions...”_

_Chrom stared at her closely, doubt etched on his handsome features.  “And what of your own training and missions, hmm?  You wish to be a full-fledged Pegasus Knight, do you not?  How will you achieve your goal if you work yourself into the ground?  You won’t be of any use if you’re too tired to fight.”  He shook his head.  “From all reports, you are a very intelligent young lady, Cordelia... smart enough to know better.  Do you wish to tell me the real motive behind this?”_

_His intense gaze was more than a little disconcerting, as was his concern.  Lord or not, he had no business poking into his subordinate’s personal lives, especially ones with which he had no previous contact.  Cordelia grew annoyed and defensive, her illness and hazy mind feeding into it.  Regrettably, it also prevented her from choosing her words more carefully.  “I work because I must.  They will not accept me otherwise.”_

_“I beg your pardon?”_

_Something in her snapped, though she would never understand why.  Most likely, she had simply kept her feelings bottled up for far too long, her sleepless nights and unanswered prayers pushed to the forefront of her mind.  But hearing a complete stranger compliment the very features that had only ever garnered ridicule from her comrades did not aid the matter.  Likewise, while she had been unconscious, she had been plagued by dreams that served to remind her of her lifelong loneliness, and the desperate longing to be loved and to fit in for once in her life.  All of it compounded until she could bear it no longer, not with the smug, self-serving stalker prince staring her down._

_She told him everything.  To put it more accurately, she shouted at him, furious and frustrated tears spilling from her eyes.  She wailed about the Pegasus Knights who bullied her relentlessly, offering empty promises of friendship in return for doing their chores, only to turn around and verbally beat her.  She wept as she recalled that her superiors tended to tease her about her remarkable skill as well, rather than encourage and compliment her.  She complained that even Sumia, her one and only friend, did not truly comprehend the pressure she was facing or understand how difficult it was to make friends among callous and cold-hearted warriors who were born and bred for war._

_It more or less came to a head when Chrom kindly attempted to comfort her, but she spurned his efforts, screaming that as prince, he couldn't possibly understand her plight.  Thanks to his birthright, he was loved and accepted by all; he had no need to prove himself to anyone, and therefore did not know how difficult it was to ward off such overwhelming worthlessness.  He, in turn, said nothing nor did he defend himself from her accusations.  When she finally finished pouring out her heart, she forcefully asked him to leave.  He obliged without a sound._

“So... you yelled at him for helping you?  How does that translate to love in any book?” Henry inquired, confusion projected in his voice, though not his face.

Cordelia giggled and flushed.  “Be patient; I promise I’m getting to that.”  She kicked her legs, the motion alleviating her embarrassment at having treated her superior so unfairly.  “It was a long time before I understood that Chrom suffered from a different form of loneliness, one borne from the very birthright I mocked.  While it’s true that it gives him many advantages and he had never lacked for companionship, there were very few who would treat him as an equal.  He had subordinates, not friends.  He knew the struggle of finding acceptance.  And so... out of the goodness of his heart, he went out of his way to help me find my own.”

_She was made to rest for several days in the infirmary, and she had few visitors save for Captain Phila and, not surprisingly, the always benevolent Exalt Emmeryn.  Chrom must have spoken to them regarding the other Pegasus Knights, for both of them chastised her keeping the bullying secret, and assured her that she would not be subjected to such harsh ridicule again, nor would she be taken advantage of by her comrades.  Phila investigated the matter herself, and learned who was responsible for Cordelia’s condition.  Those knights were properly reprimanded, demoted, and transferred to other posts away from the capitol.  In this way, she could be assured that no retaliation was forthcoming._

_For her part, Cordelia was certainly grateful that she would not have to face them, but she did feel guilty about the whole matter.  Her plight was hers alone, and she was too young yet to understand the true value of the camaraderie that the Pegasus Knights were meant to foster.  And while it was relief, it did not fill the aching emptiness in her heart._

_She spent much of her bed rest thinking, as she was not permitted to do anything else.  She did not understand why Chrom had not simply dumped her off and let her be.  Surely he had far better things to do with his time than look after a lowly knight-in-training who did not have the strength to take care of her own affairs.  Once more, she cursed herself for showing such weakness.  His opinion of her wasn't particularly important, but it stung to think that the man she would one day serve at the completion of her training must now think even less of her.  The crude and emotional behavior she had exhibited was very unbecoming of a Pegasus Knight._

_The heavy door of the infirmary opened with a loud thump, followed by voices.  She paid them no mind, lying on her side away from the source, when a familiar voice squealed._

_“Cordelia!”_

_The redhead rolled over in shock, just in time to be tackled by her childhood friend and long-time pen pal.   “Sumia?  Urk!  Hey, easy!”_

_The younger girl reluctantly let go and sat next to her on the edge of the bed.  “Sorry!”_

_Cordelia sat up.  “What are you doing here?”_

_She took her hand and clenched it tight.  “I've been so worried about you!  First the letters, and then I heard you were sick!  I came as soon as I was called.”_

_“Called by whom?”_

_Sumia blushed brightly as a second figure approached, smiling kindly.  “By me,” said Chrom, pausing to stand next to them.  “I thought you could use some company.  I asked around, and one of the Pegasus Knights told me that you were really close with a girl from your village.  It took some effort, but I arranged for her to come and visit.”_

_“Y-you... you did that... for me?”  Cordelia was amazed, and more than a little touched._

_The prince scratched the back of his head sheepishly.  “Yeah, sure.”  Then he came closer and put on a careful hand on your shoulder.  “Look, I can’t claim to understand what you’re going through, but I’m more than willing to help in any way possible.  So from now on, I want you to come to me if you ever have problems like this again, okay?  You’re a special and talented girl, Cordelia, and you deserve to be treated with the same respect as anyone else.  You’ve more than earned it through all your hard work.”_

_Cordelia neither moved nor spoke, rooted to her seat and trembling, her white cheeks dusted pink._

_He let go and took a few steps back again.  “You've got what it takes to make an amazing Pegasus Knight.  Don’t give up, okay?  Keep at it, and I’m sure you’ll be the best there ever was.”  He smiled in that unique, charming way of his, and bowed.  “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to catch up.  But I’ll come check on you again later, okay?  Goodbye!”_

_Neither girl moved an inch until he had completely left the room, closing it behind him with a resounding bang.  As soon as he was gone, Sumia giggled.  “Wow... Prince Chrom is so dreamy!  And so nice...”_

_Cordelia swallowed heavily and nodded in agreement.  “Yeah...”  She wouldn't know it until later, but in that moment, she had fallen in love, for he had done something remarkable that she had never before experienced._

Henry crossed his arms in disappointment.  “That’s it?  You fell for Chrom because he got Sumia to come see you when you were sick and lonesome?”

She bit her lip worriedly, wondering if it truly sounded as trite as he made it sound.  “Yes... in a way.  But you see, no one had ever shown me such kindness before.  At the time, I hadn't been close to any of the Pegasus Knights, though that changed over the years afterwards.  I thought that none of them cared about me, especially in light of the treatment I received from the few who took advantage of me.  Thankfully, the others did express concern and regret when they too learned of it.”

Cordelia leaned back to look up at the clouds, her countenance regretful.  “Up until that moment, I believed that I was unworthy of love or friendship.  I had never received it before... not from my foster parents, and certainly not from my fellow knights, until much later.  I foolishly forgot to take Sumia into account as well.  Then, in an hour of great need, Chrom stepped up and went out of his way to rectify the situation.  Yes... he WAS my knight-in-shining-armor, rescuing me from my overzealous work ethic and the dismal belief that love must be earned.  His selfless actions assigned value to me, and in time, I even began to value myself.  From then on, I _tried_ to be more careful with how much I took on.”  She laughed in a self-deprecating way.  “The lessons did not last as long one might hope, but my love for him did.  I mistakenly thought for some time that I was special, that he went out of his way and placed his faith in me alone.  I was wrong of course, but I loved him all the more for it.”

“I don’t follow,” Henry said, brows narrowed ever-so-slightly.

She sighed and took a beat to decide how best to explain her reasoning.  “Chrom may not be the most approachable person around, but one of the great things about him is that he is so trusting.  Make no mistake... he is no fool, and he does not spare those who have the misfortune to earn his wrath.  But he himself has said that he would much rather make a friend than an enemy, or at the very least, a comrade-in-arms.  For that reason, he is willing to take a chance on others, not trusting them completely, but always allowing for the opportunity to earn his good faith.  It is because of this very quality that the Shepherds are what they are today - a marvelous mix of humans and other races, all of various origins, such as Ylisse, Ferox, Rosanne...” she nudged  Henry with her elbow, “and even Plegia.  Where else in the world would one find such a veritable melting pot?  And it is thanks to Chrom that we are as we are, able to make friends with those who might have been otherwise.”  After a thought, she added, “He has many other admirable qualities as well.  I merely told you what drew me to him in the first place.”

Henry grinned.  “Wow, he’s really all that, huh?  I guess I kinda understand why you’re so obsessed now... I think.  You make him sound like some kind of flawless, altruistic god.”

Cordelia shook her head and rolled her eyes.  “Not flawless, no, and hardly a god.”  She shifted her body to glare at her friend.  “But really, must you put it like that?  You speak as though I’m some sort of love-sick teenager fawning over him.”

He faced her with a barely noticeable frown on his lips.  “Well, you SOUND like a love-sick teenager fawning over him.”

They continued to glare at one another a moment, silently daring the other to break first.  In the end, they both cracked up, laughing at the whole thing.  Once they calmed down, she wiped her eyes of tears, both of joy and sorrow.  

“Ahh!  Thank you, Henry.  It’s been a long time since I've laughed like that.”

He shrugged and smirked.  “No prob!  But... uh...” His humor slipped just a tiny bit to show his concern.  “I still don’t think I really get it, but anyway... did it help?  Talking about it I mean.  Or do you still feel hung up on him?”

She stopped to consider his query, almost forgetting the purpose for the entire conversation.  After a long time, long enough that Henry appeared to be getting antsy, she whispered, “Yes and no.”  She searched her heart for a few moments more so that she could appropriately clarify.

Finally, she said, “I think... that a part of me will always love Chrom, in a way.  He was my first love, and the traits that drew me to him are still very much a part of him today, unique to him.  He is my lord, and captain, and I will revere him for as long as I live.  However...” Cordelia sighed heavily yet again, finally realizing and ready to admit the truth.  “The love I feel for him is not the love that I need or desire.  It is empty and unyielding, full of emotion, but devoid of an equal and mutual exchange, as well as the unconditional affection that inspires people to stand side-by-side, while at the same time serving one another for the sake of that love.”  

As she spoke, thinking aloud, something in her changed.  Where there had long been only the cold companion of emptiness and despair, acceptance seemed to settle in her heart, filling and sating her.  “What’s more, while my feelings for him once inspired me and pushed me to become the best I could possibly be, they only serve to hold me back now.  For they are routine and predictable, and have no further use, save only as a memory.  I think.... I've been afraid, Henry.  I've refused to let go or to close this chapter of my life, because to do so requires risk, letting go of the familiar, and to accept that all things inevitably come to an end.”

“I do not need the love or pity of a man who knows nothing of me anymore, if he ever truly did.  I do not want to be loved by a man who values my talent, but not my heart.  I want... I _deserve_ the love of someone who cares only for me, and not because of my skills or my value as a soldier, but as the woman I am.  I want someone to see and know all of me, flaws and all, and love me the same.”

Henry bobbed his head excitedly in agreement.  “That’s awesome!  Sounds like you’re finally coming around.”

She affirmed his statement with a shake of her head.  “Yes.”

Both of them grew quiet.  Cordelia was partially lost in thought, reveling in the sense of contentment that she felt spreading through her form.  She briefly thought through everything she had just said, almost second guessing herself.  Did she truly believe her own words?  Chrom might very well be a part of her of who she was, but he did not define her.  It is plausible that dire things could have happened had she never encountered him at such a dark hour, but it did not alter the fact that she was a beautiful and talented woman with much to offer the world and love in her heart to give.  For so long, she had clung to the belief that because he noticed and appreciated her work ethic and skill, they were the only things that mattered, and the only things that might one day capture his love.  Yet ultimately, her worth should not be measured or defined by the opinion of any man, even a noble one such as her king.  It was hers alone, regardless of what became of her or who she should choose to care for.

After a while, Henry hopped up to his feet.  “Hey, Cordelia?  I have another idea.”

She grinned up at him, but did not immediately get up.  “And what’s that?”

“Well, since it sounds like you’re ready to be over Chrom, I think we should build a little wooden effigy of him.”

Puzzlement crossed her face at such an odd suggestion.  “For what purpose?” she asked.

“To burn, of course!  Nothing says ‘So long, sucker!’ like a burning wooden effigy!  Kinda like burnin’ the bridges, you know?  Come on!  It’ll be awesome!”

Cordelia wasn't sure whether she should roll her eyes or laugh at the proposition.  She decided on the latter.  “Ah ha ha!  As exciting as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.  While I am ready to be rid of these feelings once and for all, he is still my captain.  I should hate to be accused of treason for participating in anything that may be seen as disrespectful.”  Her tone was more reprimanding when she pointed out, “And as a Plegian, I should think you’d want to be more careful of the impression you give others.”

Henry crossed his arms and pouted.  “Aww!  First no curses, and now this?  You’re no fun!”

“Maybe not.  But I am practical.”

He huffed and began walking away.  

“Henry?  Where are you going?”

He whirled long enough to answer her.  “I’m bored.  If you’re not gonna let me hex anyone or burn something, I’m going to find something else to do.”  His characteristic grin widened in excitement.  “I’m gonna go see if what’s-her-name will let me play with her wyvern.”

Cordelia instantly stood and jogged to catch up to him.  “You mean Cherche’s mount, Minerva?  Isn't that a little dangerous?  And why would you want to play with such a hideous creature?”

Henry waved a dismissive hand.  “Hideous?  You must be thinking of a different wyvern.  She’s as cute as button!”

“Wait, are you referring to Minerva or Cherche?”

Henry didn't answer her as he skipped off to find the rider and dragon in question.

Cordelia stood unmoving and watched him go.  She shook her head and smiled fondly at his antics.  In her heart, she thanked him for listening, and to help her see more clearly.  Then she turned around to look out over the sea again.  

Beyond the shores of their home, there were other lands in desperate need of aid, and war waiting to be fought.  She knew the thought of it should fill her with dread, and certainly there was a terror lingering in the back of her mind.  And yet, there was also something more.  The world was, after all, so much bigger than anything she ever imagined, and she never before thought to dream beyond the borders of Ylisse.  The wide expanse of water may be their downfall, or at least lead them to it, but for her, it seemed to also mean a world of possibilities, merely waiting for her to take a chance.

Cordelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the magnificent fragrant air and allowing it to fill every inch of her.  A calming scent on the wind chased away all thoughts of princes and broken hearts.  This was her first time near the ocean, and she’d be hard pressed to name all that sensations that came with it.  But if she had to name it, she’d say it felt like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	18. Continuation

_**Chapter Fourteen**.....If you have been diligently faithful in following this book’s guidelines, you should have your man wrapped around your little finger, worshiping you with abandonment.  But if, for incomprehensible reasons, that is not the case, there is one final, sure-fire way to bind him to you once and for all....._

Cordelia snapped the book shut with a roll of her eyes and a noise like a sigh coated in self-deprecating laughter.  When she’d packed her travel bags over a week ago, she had shoved a few random books from her collection into the already stuffed pack without bothering to see what they were.  She hadn't realized that one of them happened to be the pink tome that had once been a source of great comfort and embarrassment.  In rediscovering it, she had flipped it open to the placemark she’d left there nearly two years prior and skimmed the introduction to the final chapter curiously.  However, she quickly came to her senses, reminding herself that such advice served no purpose now.  She refused to indulge in thoughts of what might have been anymore.

She put the book back in her bag and rummaged through the other items, trying to decide which would serve as a good distraction for the time being.  Sailing to Valm was proving to be more or less  a waiting game, as there was not enough space for training, and there was no need to look after weapons and supplies so soon in their campaign.  The Shepherds had been assured that the journey over the sea would take no more than a week or two, perhaps less if the fair weather persisted.  Nonetheless, the troops grew restless quickly.  In particular, those that discovered that their stomachs had a violent aversion to sailing were quite keen on reaching dry land as quickly as possible.  Condensing their army to fewer ships after a daring assault on another portion of the Valmese invasion fleet further complicated matters.

The fliers were the most well off, as they could escape the ships at times to scout ahead or serve as escorts.  But alas, the pegasi were not accustomed to navigating the ocean’s moisture-heavy air, and they tired more quickly than they would if they soaring through the skies they had known.  It was imperative that both the soldiers and their various mounts reach the shores with the strength to fight, and so they rotated which animals were in the air and which remained below deck, recovering as best as they could.

Cordelia and Catria had just completed their turn on guard duty, so after grooming and feeding her faithful companion, the Falcon Knight was in desperate need to something to do.  She was especially keen on finding some activity to occupy her thoughts, because if she did not, she would continue to replay her previous encounter with Lon’qu in her mind, and that would inevitably make her gloomy.

She had been nervous to see him again obviously; it had been close to six months since their last unintended meeting.  Yet she had also been excited, as she had just recently rediscovered her love of fencing and was on the verge of perfecting her very own form.  She thought to renew their friendship by demonstrating how far she’d come, and see if he had any new insight to give her.  But like most cases in her relational life, it did not go according to plan.

After the necessary parties had assembled to the port, Chrom and Robin convened all of the unit captains to discuss strategy.  Cordelia had been present as Robin’s guard and head of the Pegasus Knights, and Lon’qu accompanied Basilio.  As soon as the meeting had concluded, she hurried after his retreating form to speak to him.  He only allotted her a time enough for a cordial greeting, which he begrudgingly reciprocated with little more than cold indifference.  

In all honesty, it wasn't entirely unexpected and she really had no right to feel annoyed with him.  It was entirely her actions that caused their friendship to wane.  True, he had not written her any letters during their time apart either, but she knew that he had sought her out whenever he was in Ylisse.  She had not returned in kind.  Nonetheless, it hurt, far more than she thought it would, to be treated with such apathy.  She would much rather hear him rage at her than to revert to the casual acquaintanceship that they had started with.

Cordelia shook her head and muttered to herself, mortified momentarily when the only word that passed her lips was, “Sigh...”  She rubbed one of her closed eyes with the heel of her palm, chastising herself for descending so far as to say aloud the sound that most frequently escaped her.  She really was completely hopeless.

She took a few cleansing breaths, banishing the temptation to feel sorry for herself.  Next, she resumed searching her pack for something to do.  Finding nothing sufficient, she tied the bag closed and set it aside with her other things.  Then her eyes fell on her travel harp.

It was on the small side; it easily fit into her lap and utilized levers instead of a pedal to change the pitch of the strings.  The strings themselves were likely made from sheep gut, though she couldn't be sure since she’d bought it from a merchant who did not specialize such products.  It wasn't as elegant as the large double-action pedal harp she had in Ylisstol, but she loved it just the same.  She could play many different styles of music with it, but it felt oddly perfect for the folk tunes and traveling songs she had learned on various journeys.  

She smiled softly as she picked it up and cradled it lovingly, deciding in an instant to take it along to the top deck to tinker with for awhile.  Playing the instrument was rather relaxing for her in a way that was quite different from her other hobbies.  It soothed her mind and heart.  It gave her joy to possess a skill that could create something beautiful and provide a measure of peace.  Most of her other talents entailed destroying lives, so it was nice to be able to accomplish something without bloodshed involved.  Almost all of the Shepherds could agree; they each seemed to have at least one pastime or interest apart from combat.  Kellam and Donnel were farmers.  Ricken played with animals.  Maribelle studied law.  Sumia raised pegasi.  Gaius baked various sweets.  The list went on with nearly everyone; they all needed a healthy outlet to ease their battle-weary souls.

She had even spent some time teaching Stahl to play, some months ago.  He had been a very dedicated student, and he in turn taught her a thing or two in the process from his own perspective.  Their styles had been compatible enough that they were able to play duets, sometimes accompanying Olivia when she danced and sang.  Unfortunately, he hadn't brought his own instrument along for this journey, so she would be practicing solo for now.

Cordelia exited her shared cabin and made her way up a set up stairs, courteously maneuvering out of the way of a few soldiers stumbling by.  She ducked under the low doorway at the top of the stairs and immediately held a hand up over her head, blinking rapidly and waiting for her eyes to re-adjust to the bright afternoon sun.

The weather was gorgeous today.  A strong ocean wind filled the sails overhead, eliminating the need for many rowers.  Pegasus Knights and Wyvern Riders flew overhead at a steady pace, sometimes wheeling around one another playfully.  Several Shepherds, along with their subordinates, were scattered across the bow, talking or walking at leisure, or simply gazing out over the vast sea, admiring the view.  Chrom and Robin were among the latter group on the port side, standing on either side of their daughter with their arms around her shoulders.  Cordelia’s gaze flashed to them briefly, but she paid them no mind, and instead sought for a solitary place on the starboard side of the stern.

Donnel and Maribelle were the only ones loitering in this area.  The former villager was draped over the bulwark, his faced twinged a sickly green.  His young wife was rubbing his back comfortingly with a handkerchief at the ready to wipe his face.  Cordelia nodded to the Valkyrie, her expression sympathetic.  Her acknowledgement was returned with the barest hint of a thankful smile.

She took a seat on one of the secured supply crates at the very edge of the stern.  She hugged her harp to her chest and took a moment to bask in the sunshine, her eyes closed and head tilted up to the sky.  After a bit, she carefully arranged the instrument on her lap and plucked a few of the strings to check the tuning.  She adjusted a few of the levers until everything was appropriately set to the key of C.  Once she was satisfied, she began to play a nonsensical melody almost lazily, debating on a song and style.

She wondered if now might be a good opportunity to practice some of her own compositions.  She’d been working on a few different pieces, but none of them had been perfected enough to be performed for others.  With no real audience, save for the distracted couple, she might be able to fix a few of the ones she was stuck on.  Smiling at the idea, she settled into a comfortable position and started to play.

The melody she’d chosen was light and flowing, consisting of mostly major chords to convey a sense of subdued hope.  However, she’d also thrown in a few minor undertones to give it a poignant impression of nostalgia.  It was a prayer of remembrance, meant to be a tribute to things past that simultaneously recalled both bliss and grief.  The accompaniment itself easily invoked those feelings, but Cordelia had taken the extra step to write the lyrics as well.  This was where she felt the song was lacking, for she was no great poet and her voice, though quite capable of carrying a tune, did not possess the professionally trained performance level, like Olivia’s.  But with the relative solitude of the moment, she did not feel too nervous to quietly sing the completed verses:

 

_Amid the shadow of the night_

_and through the darkened day_

_There came a ray of golden light_

_to banish all the grey_

__

_The light was strong beyond compare_

_Unsullied by the shade_

_and all who sheltered in its care_

_ceased to be afraid_

_Whosoever the light could touch_

_became as one within_

_but some there were who hate too much_

_and would not revoke their sin_

__

_Oh golden light of starlit dawn_

_I long to see your face_

_But you live no more, save in a song_

_And flames burn in your place_

__

_Others came and shone as well_

_to fight against the tide_

_Stars that fought before they fell_

_Fading as they died_

_On foot and wing, they rose to meet_

_The onslaught of the dark_

_Relentless in their noble creed_

_Determined to leave their mark_

__

_Oh silver light of stars and moon_

_I pray you guide my path_

_For I know my soul is not immune_

_to vengeance, fear, and wrath_

__

_Heroes rise and kingdoms fall_

_and evil does not sleep_

_Death will come and claim us all_

_Both Shepherds and the Sheep_

_Nonetheless, the lights will shine_

_forever and beyond_

_Enshrined within your heart and mine_

_with deep unbreakable bonds_

__

_O light of love, come fill my soul_

_And let me not forget_

_The ones whose lives have made me whole_

_for whom the sun’s already set_

Cordelia stopped singing, but her fingers continued their light movements over the harp, repeating the tune that signified the song’s chorus.  She hadn't decided where she wanted to take the piece from there.  Should she repeat the final stanza and end the song?  Could it do with a few more verses?  Did the words even make any sense at all?  She did not know for certain.  She was reasonably happy with what she’d written so far, but that did not necessarily prove that it was good by any means.  If she ever chose to share it, there might be some who would understand her concept and enjoy it, but there would probably be just as many who would hate it or find it lacking.  In the end, she was likely to be her own worst critic and best fan, and she would have to find a way to accept that somehow.

She played a few moments more, turning over a few ideas in her head.  But nothing concrete surfaced, and her hands stilled on the strings.  She sighed and turned her attention to the sea, hoping in vain for some further inspiration.

“You never told me you could sing and play an instrument...” interrupted a soft voice.

Cordelia’s body jerked involuntarily, as she was startled out of her musings by an intruder.  She nearly gave herself whiplash when she turned her neck to meet familiar dark eyes.  “Lon’qu...”

His expression was completely unreadable in the brief seconds their gazes locked, but his body language easily betrayed his discomfort; he was shifting on his feet.  He tried to cross his arms before he remembered that he was holding some small package wrapped in cloth in one hand.  He let his limbs fall to his side again.  His unoccupied hand clenched as though he wasn't sure what to do with himself.  

It did not seem as though he was going to say anything more just yet.  Cordelia considered that his previous comment might be an open-ended question, and treated it as such.  “Oh... um... yes.  I suppose... it just hadn't come up before.”

Lon’qu made a noncommittal grunting noise in the back of his throat.

They both fidgeted awkwardly, likely hoping that the other would be the first to break the tension.  After an indeterminate amount of time, she finally relented.  “So... w-what can I do for you?  Did you need something?”

She thought he might feel relieved that she had been the one to speak, but his face remained completely passive, guarded even.  “I do not need anything, no.  I simply came to give you this.”  He held out his hand to offer her the wrapped bundle, but he did not come any closer.  

She glanced back and forth between the object and his face, a bit perplexed.  “What is it?”

“Food.”  When she simply continued to stare at him, he elaborated, “Frederick and I were working in the galley, and noticed that you did not come down to eat with the others.  He asked me to find you and make certain that you ate.  We cannot afford to have anyone grow weak simply because they skipped a meal.”

“Oh.”  Cordelia tried not to look disappointed at his claim, though he was correct.  Settling Catria and taking some time to play had driven the thought of lunch from her mind.  She stood, holding her harp in one arm, and stepped forward to take the proffered package with the other.  “T-thank you.”  She did her best to smile, but found it too hard to look up at his face.  Her body was wracked with nerves, and she stared at her feet, her bright red hair falling over her face.

“Hmph.”  He immediately spun around and made to leave.

At last, she forced her head up to watch him go, her chest constricting in anguish.  In an instant, she realized that she could not bear this anymore.  They could not very well spend the entire campaign avoiding each other; there was always the possibility that Robin may pair them up again if the situation called for it.  If they did not settle their dispute, it could fester and become a deadly distraction at a critical moment.  

Moreover, Cordelia mourned the loss of their friendship.  It was as the old adage goes: one never knows what they have until they lose it, and she never truly appreciated his presence until it was no longer available.  And since she was the one responsible for causing this strain, it was up to her to fix it, or make a valiant effort at least.

“Lon’qu, wait!  Please... please don’t go just yet.”

He stopped, but did not turn around.  

Cordelia could feel her eyes begin to sting with tears, but she held them back as best she could.  “Please... I can’t take this.  I know I've hurt you, t-that I've been a terrible friend.  A-and I do not expect us to immediately go back to... to whatever it was we had.  But will you not speak to me?  Will you not grant me even a moment of your time, just to hear me out?”  All of this was spoken in a hoarse whisper, and she couldn't be sure if he even heard her above the wind and the waves.

She observed his stiff form eagerly, hoping that he would at least have the courtesy to deny her request rather than just ignore it completely.  But her optimism dwindled as the agonizing silence seemed to stretch between them indefinitely.

At last, she heard him say, “What words would you speak that your actions have not already said?”  His voice was practically dripping with frost.

“That I've missed you,” Cordelia blurted without thought.  She flushed at the declaration, but it was too late to take it back.  She had no desire to anyway, so she ploughed on.  “Truly, I have... more than you know.”

Lon’qu finally faced her and allowed something other than his passive mask to touch his features.  She could not guess what he had been expecting her to say, but that clearly wasn't it.  It gladdened her to know that even after their estrangement, she could still recognize the barely detectable flickers and twitches of real emotion, other than irritation and anxiety that is.

Bolstered by that fact, she told him in a rush, “They may sound like excuses to you, and I will not fault you if you should take it that way.  I do not expect you to accept them as adequate, nor do I hold any delusions of our partnership returning to the way it was before.”  She took a breath.  “Even so, you deserve to know my reasons, and I would give them full willing.”  She was tempted to say more, to reach out and cling to him and all but beg him to listen to her, but she needed to respect his personal space, both physically and metaphorically.  She had no right to demand anything from him after all.

She could read nothing more from him for a while.  His carefully crafted stoicism had been restored, and did not betray any inclinations that might have been running through his mind.  It felt like an eternity before he relented, nodding ever-so-slightly.

Cordelia breathed a heavy sigh of relief and did not fight the tiny smile that settled on her lips.  “Thank you,” she murmured.  She inclined her head towards the supply crates in an unspoken gesture to sit for their discussion.  She reclaimed her own previously occupied space; Lon’qu reluctantly sat on the one across from her, several feet away.  It was close enough that he would be able to hear her, but with the appropriate level of distance to alleviate his stress.

While he shifted to settle himself, she took the brief opportunity to look him over and take stock of his appearance and altered garb.  He was a Swordsman now, wearing functional but flowing clothes of deep blue, and various pieces of armor which she could not name (they differed from those worn by the various classes of knights).  Two swords were secured on both sides of his waist, and he had to adjust them a bit in order to sit comfortably.  The class change gave him a distinguished air that suited his indomitable personality very well.  Add to that his unruly brown locks that were just a little longer than they were before, his sharp features and strong jaw, and he cut quite the imposing figure.

Cordelia lowered her head to conceal the uncontrollable urge to stare at him, though it probably wasn't necessary since he was not facing her.  She had forgotten how handsome he was, having previously paid little attention to that aspect of his being in comparison of another.  This realization fractured her already tentative resolve.

Immediately, she began to have second thoughts about this.  It wasn't that she did not want to clear the air between them, for she really did, but she had not put much time into considering precisely what it was she wanted to say.  Moreover, there were some things, mostly her long obsession with Chrom, that she did not wish to revisit.  She had only recently made peace with that part of her heart; she did not want to risk undoing all of her progress.

Lon’qu cleared his throat abruptly, signaling his growing impatience with her dallying.

“S-sorry, I was just...”  Cordelia hesitated and instantly cursed her own foolishness, even if she did have cause to be skittish.  After all, as much as she might hope for it, there was no guarantee that he would accept her apology.  She already told him as much.  Steeling herself once more, she set her harp and lunch pack on the floor beside her, and soothed down the creases of her uniform restlessly.

She took a deep, shuddering breath.  “I guess, first of all, I want you to know that I meant what I said, Lon’qu.  I truly have missed you.  I've thought of you quite often following the war.”  She gave him a shy smile, unsure if it was that or her words that caused him to blush and look anywhere but at her.  “Of course, there may not have been cause for that, if only I hadn't actively avoided you whenever you came to visit.”

Her freely given admission seemed to surprise him,but he said nothing.  He merely raised a questioning eyebrow, his lips pressed firmly together in unspoken inquiry.

Cordelia mentally debated on how much to elaborate.  “I suppose... my foremost reason for avoiding you was because I felt so utterly lost and forgotten once the war was officially over.  I was still grieving over my deceased comrades and sisters, as well as mourning unfulfilled dreams.  Not to mention, everything changed so quickly:  several Shepherds, including you, left to go their own ways and all of our predictable and established routines were essentially dismantled.  Furthermore, the task of rebuilding Ylisse was monumental, overwhelming at times.”  She bit her lip to keep any potential tears at bay.  “I felt so alone... like I couldn't make sense anything.  And I found it hard to talk to anyone about it, because everyone else seemed to be doing just fine.”  She chuckled bitterly.  “Particularly everyone who got married... they never _seemed_ to struggle, always so happy, full of life and love.  I know now that I was wrong on that front, but at the time, I let it get the better of me.”

Her companion nodded slowly.  “I can sympathize with that,” he admitted, “but I don’t see how that translates into a need to avoid me.”

She ruefully agreed.  “Well... as I said, I felt so empty and bereft of purpose while everyone around me appeared perfectly content.”  She swallowed and craned her neck to watch the rolling waves.  “Because of that, I felt... ashamed that I was struggling so.  I thought that I was a failure in some ways, and I must admit... I’m not really used facing something that I cannot overcome by training and force of will.  I thought I was nothing but a disappointment, and I did not want to face that possibly from anyone.”  Her glance strayed to him briefly.  “I especially did not want to accept that from you.”

“From me?”  Lon’qu glared at her incredulously, though there was no real anger behind the expression, merely puzzlement.  

Cordelia could not find the strength to look at him when she quietly confessed, “ Yes,” she whispered.  “I... I have always valued your opinion, Lon’qu.  And if I could not bear to show such weakness to those around me in general, I feared it even more so with you.”  Her hands clenched in her lap and she bent her head to study her feet.  “I assumed that I was always letting you down, somehow.  I had failed you... both as a student and as a friend.  As I grew more and more distressed, while the world around me celebrated, I truly believed that I was also a failure as a soldier, perhaps even as a person.  And whenever I reflected on our time together, it seemed to me that I continually caused you pain, which I still do not fully understand.  But... rather than face or amend it, I chose to hide myself away, like a coward.  For that... I apologize.”

A hush fell over both of them while Lon’qu processed her words, and she could only hope that he at least understood, even if he did not accept it.  It was undoubtedly the truth, though she did hold back the fact that her former love for Chrom also played a role in her self-imposed isolation.  Perhaps one day she would be able to talk about that aspect more freely, but currently, it only embarrassed her to think of how much time and energy had been wasted on the prince.  

She was just beginning to wonder if he would say anything at all, when he finally shook his head and mumbled, “You are such a fool.”

Cordelia blushed but conceded his opinion.  For so long, she had convinced herself that she needed to work through her issues by herself, persevering by her own strength.  However, her recent interactions with Vaike, Robin, and Henry, as well as the memory of others coming alongside her during difficult times, had shown her that she was not and would never truly be alone.  There would always be someone she could count on and call upon in need, and she should not ashamed to ask for help.  She was her only hindrance.

Lon’qu crossed his arms and exhaled heavily as he closed his eyes.  “I... I can relate to the difficulties you've faced,” he admitted.  “I also understand your... reluctance to admit your perceived failings.  I, too, have found myself in similar situations, so I can hardly judge you for that.  However...”  He trailed off and fidgeted, apparently holding some internal discourse with himself.

“Yes?” she prompted after a few minutes passed.

“N-nothing!” He growled, looking pointedly away from her.

She frowned in disappointment.  She was not going to pressure him into speaking his mind, not when she had concealed her own for so long.  That did not stop her from wishing he would though.

“I... I've never once thought of you as a failure in any way, nor have I ever thought you weak,” he said softly.  “And if I was disappointed, it was only because...” He stopped and swallowed forcefully at her expectant gaze, his face blazing.  

She waited patiently.

“B-because... I s-simply wanted to see you,” he stuttered.  Before he lost his nerve, he added, “For I have missed you as well.”

Cordelia did not hold back the shy, but almost silly grin that turned her lips.  “You have?  Truly?”

He grit his teeth in an attempt to conceal his mortification of the situation, but he did not deny it.  “Perhaps, but that does not mean I am not still angry with you,” he scowled.

She nodded, fully accepting his ire.  “I know,” she said.

They waited once more, both of them trying to determine if the conversation was over or if there was more yet say.  The awkward moment was only broken when an unnaturally loud rumbling noise interrupted their thoughts.

Cordelia blushed, her hand automatically coming to rest on her stomach as though that action alone could settle it.

Lon’qu coughed to cover up a small laugh.  “You should eat,” he said.

“That would probably be wise,” she consented, reaching down to retrieve the lunch he’d brought her.  She unwrapped the bundle slowly while trying to work up the nerve to say something else, maybe ask him to stay and speak of lighter topics, but she was not able to do so before another individual approached them.

“Lon’qu...”

Both of them turned to face the intrusion.  Cordelia was mildly surprised to find Cherche confidently strolling over, giving no heed to the Swordsman’s aversion to her and only casting a brief glance at her.  More alarming was Lon’qu’s immediate violent reaction.

“You again.  Begone!” he snarled.  His hands strayed to one of the swords at his waist.

The Wyvern Rider was not moved by his outburst or his non verbal threat, and continued, heedless of Cordelia’s presence.  “We have to talk,” she contended.  “There’s more to the story of Ke’ri and her parents.”

Cordelia struggled to conceal her shock at the statement, and was only slightly relieved to see that her former partner appeared to be doing the same.  She knew that he had discussed his past with others besides her, but Cherche was a relatively new addition to the Shepherds.  It was highly unlikely that he would have already revealed such sensitive information to her.

Lon’qu abruptly stood, looking ready to flee from them both.  “Even so, I have no wish to hear it.”  His voice quieted, and despite his obvious efforts to prevent it, his entire being radiated his old sadness.  “If there is any mercy in your heart, you will leave the matter be,” he all but pleaded.

Cherche was unmoved.  “You will want to hear this,” she insisted.

“I think not!”

The two of them glared at each other, but their eyes both strayed to Cordelia.  Lon’qu seemed to be wordlessly asking for some sort of excuse, any intervention on her part to remove him from the situation.  On the other hand, Cherche was requesting the opposite, desiring back-up from someone whose opinion was of some value to him.

Cordelia had every intention of helping Lon’qu.  She knew how much the memory of Ke’ri’s death had pained him.  She could see from his violent reaction to Cherche’s prompt that it continued to haunt him even now.  But when she searched the other woman’s face, getting ready to tell her off, she hesitated.  She did not know her well; they had no previous interactions outside of the occasional greeting and pleasantries.  Yet something in her expression caused her to second guess her inclinations.  There was unyielding resolve, signifying that she would not relent even if Cordelia stepped in, but there was compassion also.  She did not seem the type to cause needless harm to others.

Against her better judgement, or at least against some bitter feeling she could not name, Cordelia sighed and turned a steady gaze to her friend.  “Perhaps you should hear her out, Lon’qu,” she reluctantly said.

He glared back, obviously feeling a bit betrayed while Cherche flashed her a grateful smile.  The latter motioned with a hand to take the discussion elsewhere, in private.  Almost fuming, Lon’qu practically stomped off, barely waiting to be followed.

Cordelia watched them go and chewed on her bottom lip, wondering and dreading the consequences of what she’d just done.  She had no way of knowing what would come of it, and her imagination was not kind.  Thankfully, she was not able to wander too far in thought.  Without warning, Henry appeared and plopped down on the crate that was formerly occupied.

“Hey-o, Cordelia!  What’s up?” he asked cheerily.  He unceremoniously dropped several dark and ominous tomes at his own feet.

Her gut answered for her, grumbling unhappily again.  Pushing aside any unsettling thoughts about Cherche and Lon’qu, she resumed breaking into her lunch.  “Not much,” she said, doing her best to keep the irritation from her tone.  “What about you?”

Henry chose one book from his stack and opened it, thumbing through the pages.  “I’m trying to devise a new hex.”

Cordelia took a bite out of one of the sandwiches without checking to see what it was.  “What kind of hex?”

She might be imagining things, but it seemed to her that Henry was looking over at Cherche through his heavily lidded eyes.  His smile did not falter, but there was an almost dark and hungry glint to his barely visible pupils.  “Hmmm.  I’m wondering if I can figure out how to curse someone so they can’t look at other guys...”

She glanced back and forth between the Dark Mage and Wyvern Rider in surprise.  But before she could fully process the implications of both his statement and body language, she came to a slow realization about her lunch.  

She remembered watching everyone picnic on the deck from her vantage in sky when she took her turn on patrol.  She could quite distinctly recall, thanks in large part to Frederick’s incessant complaining, that everyone had been eating some form of bear meat.  It was therefore logical to conclude that she would have been provided with the same, but her pack instead contained a chutney, blue cheese, and pickled beet sandwich... her favorite.

Frederick (and a few others) knew of her preferences, but if he had been forced to prepare and consume his own least liked option, he would not have made an exception for her.  Unless someone else had been involved, Lon’qu may have taken it upon himself to find out what she liked and prepare it for her.  But of course, such a notion was utterly ridiculous.  Wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone comments on it, I would like to state that the reason Cordelia has not spoken to Lon’qu about Chrom yet, is because she does so in their S Support conversation. By the time we get to that, much of the dialogue will be the same, but with many layers beyond it and expanded. So please don’t groan about that just yet; I promise that it will be resolved.
> 
> Also, the poem is my own composition specifically for this story. Hope you liked it!
> 
> Until next time, my friends!


	19. The Hero and the Damsel: Part One

_... **The Hero and the Damsel** \-  All men have an innate desire to play the part of a hero.  Naturally, in order to become the fairy tale knight-in-shining-armor that they secretly want to be, they will inevitably need a damsel-in-distress to rescue.  Play your role accordingly, and he will most certainly devote himself to you eternally.  Place yourself in situations (they need not be life threatening, but will garner deeper affection if they are) that will allow him to come to your rescue.  Doing so will bolster his confidence and demonstrate your dependence on him.  And if for some reason he has been overlooking all of your efforts up to this point, this will open his eyes to the possibly of life without you, which in turn will bind him to you even more._

Cordelia flung the book over her shoulder, not really caring if it should become lost or damaged in the process, and rolled over to lie on her back, her cabin bed creaking in protest of so much movement.  Of all the worthless advice she’d received from the book, that was by far the worst.  It was no evil thing to affirm a man of their strength and increase their confidence, but she would not do so by making herself appear helpless.  That’s not to say that she did not need assistance on occasion or would refuse it if offered, but she was not about to intentionally go create imaginary rescue scenarios in order to win over a love interest...

... not that she had a love interest, of course.

The book had not been even remotely useful during her Chrom infatuation, but since she had forgotten much of the information it had contained, she had wondered if something within its pages could help improve her waning friendships with the male Shepherds.  She was, rather unsuccessfully, attempting to convince herself that she wasn't focused on one person in particular for this endeavor.  

She and Lon’qu had spoken a few more times since their reconciliation, attempting to make up for lost time and learn more of what had occurred in the last two years, but they were still tentative and awkward around each other.  It was difficult to say whether the cause for this was truly their time spent apart, or Cordelia’s own unspoken, growing envy of Cherche.

He did not say, nor did she ask, what he and the Wyvern Rider had discussed regarding Ke’ri, but his demeanor was noticeably lighter, as though the weight of his past was not nearly so overwhelmingly heavy.  Because of this, he no longer shrugged her off whenever Cherche approached him.  He did not seem completely comfortable with her yet, but allowing her presence was a certain sign that he would be soon enough.

Lon’qu was not the only one either.  Observation and eavesdropping (behavior that Cordelia did not usually condone or entertain) alerted her to the fact that Cherche was already well liked and sought out by others, the guys especially.  Something about the Rosanne native made them feel safe and comfortable enough to divulge more personal information far quicker than they usually did with new recruits.  She herself had learned nothing new about her comrades from overhearing these conversations, but it had taken her far longer to earn such trust.  She had good relationships, but she had never been quite as approachable.

Her old nemesis, Self-Doubt, had returned to taint the minor victories she had with Lon’qu, but it brought along a vicious ally named Jealousy.  It was not a new sensation, but for some incomprehensible reason, it was far more suffocating than she remembered from her experiences with Chrom.  Any time she and Cherche crossed paths or her name was brought up, Cordelia’s own body automatically responded negatively: her brows and the corners of her mouth turned down, her spine straightened and body constricted defensively, and her temperature rose.  She had never reacted so strongly to another woman in this way before, not even Robin when she married the prince (nor Sumia, Olivia, Sully or Maribelle in the early days of the Plegian War for that matter).

It was completely unfair to Cherche, of course.  She was not doing anything wrong.  She was just as friendly with the women and had never treated Cordelia with anything less than respectful and cheerful camaraderie.  Cordelia did her best to hide her annoyance and respond in kind.  But it was frustrating and confusing beyond belief, and most unwelcome.  She had only recently found some semblance of contentment in her life; she was not ready to deal with such strong and partially incomprehensible emotions again.  It was mentally exhausting, and taxed her more than a full day of training drills. 

She drew in a deep breath for a sigh.  Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to clear her mind, intending to take a well-deserved nap.

“Cordelia?  Cordelia!!” 

 _‘No rest for the weary,’_ she thought morosely.  She sat up sluggishly, threading her fingers through her hair, and waited expectantly as the muffled voice calling drew nearer. 

Though she knew it was coming, she still flinched a little when the cabin door was wrenched open forcefully and Sumia stumbled in.  Thankfully, she managed to catch herself before she could endure yet another painful face plant on the swaying floor.

“What’s wrong, Sumia?  Another bad flower fortune?” she surmised with a half-hearted smile.  Her friend had been obsessive even by her usual standards.  A great many fair blossoms had been sacrificed recently to the cause of easing her nerves about the war looming ever closer.  Cordelia and Frederick had been remarkably busy, alternating between reassuring her and trying to discover just where she was finding flowers at sea.

Sumia shook her head urgently, prompting Cordelia to straighten in attention at the Dark Flier’s ominous manner.  “The ships have finished docking, and there’s already movement on the shore.  Valmese soldiers are marshaling.  We’re to prepare for battle immediately.”

Cordelia needed no further prompting.  She kicked off the clawing tendrils of fatigue like a blanket and hastened to pull on, snap, and/or buckle her armor in place over her Falcon Knight tunic.  She was ready in less than a minute, and followed her friend to prepare their mounts.

Catria and Caeda, as always, sensed the heavy anticipation of battle that the knights brought with them, and allowed themselves to be saddled and garbed without resistance.  They even seemed a little excited at the prospect of combat again, for it meant freedom from their stuffy ship stables as well as the opportunity to unleash their own unbridled fury on their riders’ enemies.

With practiced efficiency, Cordelia and Sumia led their pegasi up the only stairs built to accommodate animals and through a door that let out onto the top deck at the stern.  They proceeded around to the bow of the ship, congregating with the rest of the anxious Shepherds, who were arming themselves and awaiting orders.

Chrom and Frederick, already on the shore, were discussing something in agitated tones.  Robin was using a modified spyglass tome, an Anna the Merchant specialty, to analyze the enemies’ formations.  Her lips quivered as she mumbled aloud, shifting pre-planned strategies in response to whatever her husband had seen.

Cordelia paid this little mind, fully trusting her superiors to come up with the best plan and relay commands when they were ready.  Instead, her keen eyes searched the crowd of soldiers for a Swordsman, wondering if he would be among those chosen to go forward in the first wave of battle.  And, though she chastised herself for it, she hoped that they would paired together once more.

She found him nearly immediately, weaving through the ranks with Vaike and Gregor, their strong arms laden with various weapons that they’d been ordered to distribute.  As though sensing her gaze on him, he glanced around until his eyes met hers.  With no hesitation whatsoever (likely the result of his battle instincts kicking in), he made his way over to her.

“Cordelia...”

She swallowed and fought the urge to look away from him shyly.   “Lon’qu... do you know what’s going on?”

He huffed a little as he shuffled the various spears and swords in his hands, eventually passing her a Silver Lance and a partial bundle of Javelins.  “The harbor is guarded and fortified, as Robin predicted, but several more units have suddenly appeared.  From what we can tell, they are hunting a woman.  Cherche believes that she is a member of a resistance that has long been fighting against Walhart’s conquest.”

Cordelia jerked involuntarily and quickly squashed her rising temper.  “Well then, it must be true, if Cherche thinks so,” she grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”  She instantly turned away from him and busied herself with securing the Javelins to Catria’s side via a hook on the saddle, easily within her reach should she need them.  She then inspected the Silver Lance, taking some comfort from knowing that it was brand new, and would serve her well for a long while in the skirmishes ahead.

She brushed aside the prickly nuisance of envy in favor of the addicting rush of adrenaline.  She loved the simplicity of battle, a quick and easy distraction from anything she didn’t have the strength to face just yet.  As such, her focus had now turned elsewhere, and she just assumed that Lon’qu had moved on to hand out weapons to others.

“H-hey... Cordelia?”

She nearly jumped when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, fingers pulling slightly to turn her.  She was mildly surprised that Lon’qu had any further need of her at the moment, but she was secretly pleased with it.  She cleared her throat and forced a cheerful grin.  “Yes, Lon’qu?”

He released her with a frown and shuffled his feet, heaving his drooping stack of weapons carefully, lest he drop them.  “Is everything alright?” he finally asked.

Her smile remained sickly sweet even as her brow ticked with agitation.  “Of course!  What would make you think otherwise?”

He glowered and looked about to reprimand her for the obvious rebuttal, but did not get the chance.  Chrom and Robin suddenly reappeared at the head of the crowd, their dual commanding presence silencing all further discussions.  Cordelia and Lon’qu stood at attention.

“Everyone, listen up!” Chrom bellowed.  “This is our first battle on foreign shores, and unfortunately, time is of the essence.  We've no extra time to prepare or familiarize ourselves with the enemy or the terrain.  There are innocents at risk and the harbor is well guarded.  Listen to Robin and follow her instructions precisely.  And above all, trust in yourselves and in each other.”  With that, he nodded to his tactician-wife, who immediately took control of the situation.

“Alright, it looks like we’re facing a mix of mages, cavaliers, and knights, most of whom are armed with lances and fire tomes,” she shouted, loud enough for all to hear, but quickly and clearly for the sake of urgency.  “We’re going to match them as best we can, but our first priority is to rescue the woman fleeing from them.”  Robin flipped through the roster in her hand, and then glanced around.  “Sumia... Cordelia... Cherche!”  She waited for the crowd to step aside and allow them to come forward, their winged mounts following.  “You three are the fastest and most mobile.  I want you and your combat partners to get to her as quickly as possible and keep her safe.  Destroy anything that gets in your way, but do not engage needlessly UNTIL the woman is secure behind our lines.  After that, you may do a sweep of the surrounding area.”

“If possible, we should also visit the homes here to see how the people fare,” Chrom added.  

“Right,” Robin agreed.  “I’ll leave that to you as well, but only AFTER you've rescued her.  Do not take any unnecessary risks, understood?”

“Hup!” All three women saluted in acknowledgement, and climbed into their respective saddles.  

“I’m pairing you with units capable of attacking from a distance.  Again, I want all of you to focus on getting to the woman.  Leave as much fighting as possible to your partners.”  She raised her voice to call out more names along with instructions as they appeared.  “Henry!  You’re with Cherche.  Gaius... with Sumia.  And Ricken...  Ricken?  There you are; you’ll go with Cordelia.”

Henry and Ricken, armed with two spell tomes each, scrambled up behind their assigned comrades.  The young Sage rolled his eyes when Cordelia leaned over to offer him a hand, though he had no choice but to accept it, while the newly-promoted Dark Knight’s grin stretched impossibly wider when he settled himself with the Wyvern Rider.  Gaius took a few seconds longer, as he had to retrieve a quiver of arrows and a Killer Bow from Vaike, but then he was good to go as well, briefly exchanging a nonchalant salute with his wife.

Satisfied that the core team was ready, Robin resumed calling out names and commands, eventually assigning Vaike and Lon’qu to take out the Cavaliers while Tharja would use her dark magic to dispatch enemies from afar.  Robin and Frederick would simultaneously cover the Sorceress, and clear the way forward for Chrom and Lissa.  They would follow at the rear; the king was to protect his sibling while she would be ready to heal any who might become injured.

“Everyone ready?  Then let’s go!”

At Chrom’s command, the soldiers dispersed.  Cordelia shared a glance and a nod with Lon’qu, silently wishing him well.  Then she lightly kicked her heels into her steed.  Catria spread her wings and took off, followed closely by Caeda and Minerva, neighing excitedly as she charged into battle.

Cordelia’s sharp eyes quickly picked out the harassed woman in the distance, having been backed into a corner by two Valmese Knights.  “Over there!”  She indicated the direction with her lance and leaned down and forward, urging her pegasus to hurry, flanked by Sumia and Cherche.  Behind her, Ricken kept a firm grip around her waist with one hand, the other clinging tightly to an Elthunder tome.

When they descended to get close, she found their way barred by a rushing Cavalier.  He checked his horse in their path and belted a loud war cry, but hesitated when he saw who his opponents were.

The young man flashed an arrogant grin, and then laughed outright.  “Ah ha ha!  So... the Ylissean dogs have come at last!  I confess myself disappointed.  I was expecting hardened barbarians, but here before me is a woman and a child!  Clearly the tales of your exploits have been over-exaggerated.”

Cordelia returned with a smirk of her own, mildly insulted of course, but knowing well the folly of underestimating an opponent.  In particular, she knew that Ricken was frequently overlooked by their enemies, and such mistakes were always, without fail, dearly paid for.  With a subtle gesture, she angled Catria so that the Sage in question had an unobstructed shot.

“Don’t look down on me!” Ricken shouted.  He tightened his legs around the Pegasus so that he could safely let go of Cordelia.  He flipped open his spellbook and summoned forth a bright bolt of lightning.  His body crackled with the electric energy and cast a golden glow around the Falcon Knight.  The flash accentuated the predatory smile on both their faces, making them look eerily sadistic as they watched their enemy fall away in instant death.   His lifeless body hit the ground with a loud thud, his face frozen in fearful shock.

A few paces away, Gaius and Henry likewise disposed of the forces attempting to subdue them, the latter laughing in glee at the carnage left in his wake.  A few glances between the women confirmed that all were well, and they hurried on.

The three paired units skillfully bypassed several slower enemies, their gazes fixed on the dark haired woman ahead.  Now that they were closer, they could identify her as a Swordsman class fighter.  She was defending herself valiantly, but it was clear that she was weary and would not hold out much longer.  

Cordelia exchanged the Silver Lance in her hand for one of the Javelins and yanked on the reins, wordlessly directing her steed to fly a little higher in order to give her a better vantage.  The very second she was in range, she sucked in her core and leaned back, straightening her body enough to hurl the Javelin at the nearest Knight.

Her shot was dead on, and though it did not kill him, the blow was strong enough to damage his armor and deflect his attention away from the Swordswoman.  He had barely glanced over his shoulder before death claimed him, courtesy of a well aimed arrow from the Assassin riding with Sumia.  The other succumbed to Cherche’s ax and Henry’s Vengeance-fueled Elwind.

Cordelia signaled the others with a few hand gestures, and they directed their pegasi and wyvern  to hover low to the ground, surrounding the woman with their backs to her, creating a veritable wall of protection.

The woman fell to her knees, panting heavily.  “M-mercy, friends!” she mumbled between breaths.

“Fear no more, milady!” Cherche called to her.

Sumia nodded.  “We are the Shepherds of Ylisse, and we will keep you safe.”

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder and smiled encouragingly.  “Rest now, and leave the rest to us.  Our commander shall be here in a moment.  He will speak with you as soon as he can.”  She returned her gaze to the battlefield, keeping tabs on friend and foe alike.

It seemed that the others had deliberately drawn as much attention to themselves as possible, so as to give the riders a clear path and an easy task of keeping their new ally safe.  Only a handful of Valmese soldiers dared to approach them, and all who did met a swift end.  The rest of the enemy units were regrouping around their commander, who in turn directed their efforts towards Chrom and Robin.

The other Shepherds were outnumbered, though not outclassed. Robin rearranged their formations to ensure that that the odds were as even as possible, though such measures did not always guarantee success.  No sooner had they begun to regroup, when an enemy Dark Knight ambushed Frederick from behind.  Cordelia didn't quite see what happened, but it was obvious that the Great Knight had taken a heavy hit from his pained shout.

To her left, Sumia paled and sat up straight in Caeda’s saddle.  She glanced around and bit her lip, struggling between the desire to rush to her husband’s side and follow their initial orders.  Everyone around her sympathized; it was never easy to be parted from loved ones during battle.  Nonetheless, they were all highly trained and disciplined soldiers, and would not abandon their posts or divert from the plan without cause.

Still, they were always allotted some leeway to make their own decisions, so long as their own objectives were achieved.  Cordelia took another long, sweeping look of the harbor, confirming once more that all of their opponents had indeed converged on the others.  Robin could certainly use the backup, and she, Cherche, Henry, and Ricken could handle protecting their charge.

She flew closer to her childhood friend, nodding assuredly.  “Sumia... go.”

The Dark Flier looked up in surprise, her gaze determined and hopeful.  “Are you sure?” she asked softly.

Cordelia gave a firm confirmation.  “We've got this covered.  Go help the others.”

Sumia smiled in thanks and shared an unspoken agreement with Gaius.  Then, with a harsh tug on Caeda’s reins, they took off to find Frederick.  

Cordelia watched them go.  In a moment, she realized that the way back to the ship was also quite secure, as was the area surrounding the villagers’ houses.  Chrom and Robin did say that they should look in on some of them to see how they were coping.  Now would be an opportune time, especially with the various faces peering out at them from heavily curtained windows.  Without the Valmese army grunts around to terrorize them, they appeared to be a little more intrigued by the strangers valiantly defending one of their own.  Hopefully, that interest meant that they would feel more inclined to speaking with them, and perhaps provide them with supplies or information.

Deciding to seize the chance, she motioned to get Cherche’s attention.  “Everything looks good for now.  We should take the opportunity to get her,” she gestured to the Swordswoman, “to our ships, away from the battle.  Will you escort her, while I check in with the villagers here?”

She looked somewhat reluctant but consented anyway.  “Right.”  She glanced over her shoulder at Henry.  “Shall we?”

“Nya ha!  You bet!”

Cordelia directed Catria to touch down lightly.  Then she turned to the young man behind her.  “You too, Ricken.  Go with them.”

The boy frowned in disagreement.  “And leave you here alone?  I don’t think so!”

She smiled, touched by his concern.  “I’ll be fine.  All of the enemy troops have retreated.  Besides,” she gestured to the tired woman, “she needs you more.  Who better to protect her than one of Ylisse’s best?”

Ricken blushed a little, but stuck out his tongue in defiance.  “Always with the false flattery,” he muttered.  “But alright.  If you’re sure you’ll be okay.”  At her insistence, he hopped down and rushed over to their charge.  He offered her a hand to help her up, and then they hurried off, closely guarded by the hovering Wyvern Rider and Dark Knight.

Cordelia kept a close eye on them a few moments more, then she too dismounted.  She guided her pegasus along behind her with one hand while the other held on to the Silver Lance (though she kept it lowered so as not to frighten the villagers).  She carefully approached the nearest home and knocked lightly.

She didn’t have to wait long before an elderly gentlemen opened the door and gazed at her kindly.  “Yes?”

“Good afternoon,” she greeted cordially.  “Forgive me for the intrusion.  I come on behalf of the Shepherds of Ylisse.  Is everyone alright?  Is there anything we can do for you?”

The old man appeared surprised and touched in equal measure, but quickly composed himself.  “We are well, for the time being.  But you... you are helping Say’ri, are you?”

She nodded, assuming that Say’ri was the name of the woman they’d rescued.  “Indeed.”

“Good, good!  We need such bravery in these times.  Hold one moment, if you will.”  He closed the door momentarily, but returned quickly.  He poked his head out and glanced around, presumably making sure that there were no soldiers nearby to see what he was about to do.  Satisfied that they were not being watched, he held out a rather large wrapped package.  “Here now, sell this at market and use the funds to arm your forces.  I’d rather see _you_ put it to use than have that tyrant steal it.”

Cordelia folded back one corner, her eyes widening in disbelief at the generous gift.  It was a large Bullion, worth 10,000 gold pieces.  It would go a long to keeping the army well supplied.  “I... this is wonderful!”  She covered it once more, and smiled at the man.  “On behalf of my lord Chrom, I thank you for this gift!”  She bowed, and then held out her hand in thanks.

He shook it and immediately went back into his home with no further dismissal.

She did not begrudge him the hasty withdrawal.  She stored the gift in a supply pack on Catria’s side and moved on.

The residents of the other homes were forthcoming with information and useful gifts as well, save for the last one.  The man in the last house was a little more disinclined and fearful, but he surrendered a Second Seal anyway.

She was right in the middle of thanking him, when he began to shake and tremble.  Immediately after, several things happened at once.  First, he shrieked and slammed the door in her face.  At the same time, something sharp whizzed through the air behind her, causing Catria to release a wailing cry and then buck and flail.  And just when Cordelia turned to try and calm her, a heavy iron fist backhanded her in the face.

The Falcon Knight reeled back, but instantly jumped into a strong guard position, her lance at the ready and ignoring the sting inflaming her cheek.  She barely had time to take in her surroundings; instead, she reacted instinctively by bringing her weapon across her body just in time to parry a thrust from another lance.

It was an enemy General, heavily armored and slow, but far stronger and sturdier than her.  Cruel grey eyes glared at her in hate, and his lip curled in a vicious snarl.  “Ylissean whore!  You’ll pay tenfold for the lives you've taken!”  He lunged on the offensive.

She sidestepped the attack and jumped back a few paces to put some distance between them, her eyes darting to her flying steed.  Her pegasus had collapsed.  Blood was pooling beneath one of her wings, clipped and shorn by a Tomahawk.   

Cordelia didn't deign to reply to his verbal threat.  She schooled her features into her own fierce battle mask, concealing her fear for Catria and her dismay at the clear disadvantage of being grounded.  At the same time, she inwardly cursed her carelessness at being caught off guard.  She could flee of course, seek aid from Robin and the others, but she refused to leave her faithful friend to the mercy of her foe.  In spite of her likely superior wits and skill, she probably wouldn't be able to defeat him alone.  The best she could hope for was to defend their lives until one of the other Shepherds could come to her aid.

Nodding to herself, she tightened her grip on the lance, bent her knees in a sturdy stance and waited for the General to make his move.

He roared and thrust his own weapon directly at her chest.  She deflected the blow with the pointed end and countered with the blunt end, aiming for his legs to try and throw him off balance.  He blocked with his massive shield with little effort.

Generals were well protected all around, but the bulky armor restricted their movements and kept them from reacting very quickly.  Their only unprotected areas were around the groin and from the neck up.  If there was any chance of her taking him out on her own, or weakening him at the very least, she would have to exploit those areas.

With that in mind, she stayed on defense, blocking, parrying, and dodging his attacks, but initiating none of her own, choosing to wait for the opportune opening.  It was a risky strategy, as her body was beginning to tire of this dance, but she stayed patient and persisted.  He offered insults with each blow, but she didn't rise to the bait.

After several long, tense minutes, during which she was carefully studying his body movements and committing them to memory, she saw her chance.  She knew from his posture that his next move would be a high sweep for her head.  This time, instead of redirecting it, she ducked under the swing.  Using her legs to propel her forward and strengthen the blow, she stayed low and drove her lance at the small, open junction between his mid-thigh and the bottom of his hip, desperately hoping that he would not move his shield in time to save it.

Her opponent flashed a victorious grin.  Instead of bothering with the shield, he simply brought his leg up, his knee connecting soundly with her jaw and sending her reeling back.

Cordelia’s mind went blank as she hit the ground, unable to comprehend what happened.  The General gave her no time to even attempt to get back up.  He pounced on her, throwing his shield off to the side and wrapping his free hand around her throat.  

She gasped and struggled as she was lifted off the ground and slammed into a nearby wall, the blow to the back of her head nearly knocking her unconscious.  Her ruby eyes widened and shone with pain-filled tears.  She dropped her own weapon in order to bring both hands to the one around her neck, clawing desperately to remove it.  The rest of her body thrashed under the firm grip, kicking and writhing in vain.

The Valmese soldier threw his head back and laughed, low and menacingly.  His eyes bore into hers as he grinned triumphantly.  “I could gut you right here and now... but this...” he tightened his grip around her throat ever-so-slightly, “... I think, is far more satisfying.  To feel your pulse slow and still beneath my hand... and watch the light leave your eyes... mmmm!  How delectable!”  

Cordelia continued to resist, but panic took all rational thought.  With each gulping inhale, his hand squeezed tighter, stopping her ability to exhale and forcing ever shallower breaths.

The General leaned in close, his foul breath on her face.  “It’s too bad our orders are to slay all Ylisseans on sight.  I can think of so many other fun things to do with such a pretty young thing like you...”

She cringed in horror, but there was little she could do.  Her mind stalled and her vision began to blur.  Each breath decreased, until they were little more than noiseless gasps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random note: I didn't stick to the combat format of the game perfectly, since it isn't really exciting to write. Also, I know the game doesn't specify “Swordswoman”, but it felt weird NOT to use it. Just pointing it out so it doesn't come up in reviews or comments.


	20. The Hero and the Damsel: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor descriptions of violence. I tried to keep in PG-13ish, but I since I’m a bit more on the conservative side of things, I’m not a great judge of rating. If anyone feels that I should up the rating of this story because of this chapter, please let me know via review and I will be happy to do that.
> 
> [ Chapter Fanart by Storm Studio](http://storm-studio.tumblr.com/image/115959616926)

Over the years, Cordelia had heard many stories about death and dying.  Some spoke of long, agonizing moments, during which the person on his deathbed would reflect on life, love, regrets, and the inevitable acceptance of what was to come.  Others would talk about swift and painless executions, wherein the victim was struck down so suddenly, they were dead before they knew what hit them.  

Having lived through one war in her young life, she had personally witnessed and caused both ends of the spectrum and everything in between.  In her darkest days of despair, she even considered the various forms and the speed in which her own might be, self-inflicted or otherwise.  But it was only a fleeting moment, for she remembered that her life was spared by ones who had loved her and had given their own lives to save hers, and there were still many now who would grieve at her passing.  It was a long process, but she came to value her own life and worth, and would not throw it away needlessly.

She didn't know what she thought her death would look like when her time came, but this certainly wasn't it.  There was always the strong possibility that she would fall in battle, and she accepted that, but she never imagined this terrifying asphyxiation.  Her head was throbbing, and she did not know if it was from the initial blow or the lack of oxygen.  Her breathing was becoming progressively more erratic and short, with dual sensations of pain from the pressure around her neck and in her chest.  Spots appeared in her bulging eyes, and she suddenly felt like she was confined in a tiny space, unable to move or see beyond the darkness.

Memories did not flash before her eyes, and whatever regrets she might have had did not make their way to the forefront of her mind.  Panic was the only non-physical sensation she could name.  The only other coherent thought she had was a repetitive mantra of, _‘Oh gods!  I’m going to die!’_

Strength left her body; she didn't have the energy to struggle anymore.  Everything began to numb and fade to black...

There was a feral scream, followed by an an explosion of light.  Cordelia came to quite suddenly, drawing in deep, gasping gulps of air.  Her throat and lungs burned; she turned to lay on her side _(and how did she come to be on the ground?)_ and coughed loudly.  Somewhere close by, there was a noise like metal striking against metal.  She willed her eyes open to identify the sound even as she continued to heave.

Some yards away, two figures faced one another in a vicious duel.  As her vision slowly swam back into focus, she recognized the enemy General who had nearly killed her.  His face was contorted in fury and pain and there was blood running in little rivers around his armored collar.  When he moved, she could just barely make out the hilt of a small knife sticking out from the side of his neck.  Something about the tiny weapon looked rather familiar.

His adversary was a Swordsman.  With a jolt, she realized that it was Lon’qu.  She couldn't see his face, but there was a ferocity to his movements that she had never seen before, a wild fluidity that spoke of pure rage.  His back was towards her; he had placed himself firmly between them and stood his ground so that the General could by no means come near her again.

Her former partner had the superior skill and agility, but their foe now had the weapon advantage.  On closer examination, it appeared as though Lon’qu’s speed was just slightly off because of a third sword that was strapped to his back.  It was far longer and wider than the ones at his waist.  

Fear for her friend flashed through her.   _‘Get up... Come on!  Get up!’_ she mentally screamed.  Her hacking coughs did not cease, but she managed to get her limbs to obey her brain.  She pushed herself up to a half-sprawled, sitting position, but knew that she would be of no use yet.  Feeling utterly helpless, she could only watch.

The wound to his neck had slowed the Valmese soldier considerably, but he stubbornly refused to surrender, and his lance continued to keep the Feroxian in check.  They traded many fierce blows; Lon’qu swayed and weaved to avoid being impaled while the General remained mostly stationary, relying on his armor to protect him.  In all this, no words or threats were exchanged between the two.  Their language had been reduced to physical violence, grunts, and war cries.

Eventually, the tide of battle turned.  Lon’qu spun away from a thrust and countered with incredible force.  His sword slashed downward in a vertical strike at a weak spot upon the lance, and it abruptly shattered.  The enemy was now unarmed, and utterly dumbfounded. 

Lon’qu took a few steps back.  He let go of his Killer Sword with his dominant hand, and reached for the blade on his back.  From its sheath, he drew forth an Armorslayer.  With blinding speed, he shifted the smaller sword in order to wield it backhanded, the way he once did as an Assassin, and held the other in front of him.

There was an increased pressure in the air around him.  His body began to exude a dark aura and the distribution of his weight shifted just slightly in a move Cordelia recognized well.  She turned her head and closed her eyes.

“HOW WELL WILL YOU DIE?!” she heard Lon’qu shout.  There was a gushing sound, and then a clanking thump.  Finally, there was silence.

The entire area had grown quiet.  It was quite likely that all of the enemy forces had been subdued by now.  Ylisse had won the day.

Cordelia slowly opened her eyes, wincing a little at the gory scene spread before her.  The Valmese General was splayed on the ground, a crimson pool slowly spreading from his body.  Lon’qu was still standing over it, both of this swords lowered at his side.  His shoulders shrugged at regular intervals while he caught his breath.

One would think she would be used to seeing such horrors by now, but that was not always the case.  During the commencement of a battle, it was easy to get something of a tunnel vision, allowing a numbing sense of madness to overtake any thought of compassion or mercy.  All that mattered in the moment was survival, and it was that, along with a strong dedication to duty and faith in their cause, that helped block out the moral outrage that should accompany killing.  There was even a feeling of grim satisfaction at emerging victorious, and proving one’s superiority in strength and survival.  

It was always the aftermath that proved problematic, particularly when the area was painted red following the successful execution of Lethality.

Lon’qu spun around, his eyes immediately finding hers.  “Cordelia!”  Without a second thought, and heedless of all the blood splattered on his face and clothes, he rushed over to her.  He dropped his weapons beside him as he kneeled on the ground in front of her, and carefully set both hands on her shoulders to help steady her.  “Are you alright?”

She tried to bob her head, but the movement initiated another coughing fit.  She ducked her head and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the wheezing hacks.

He released her and reached into the inner lining of his coat.  From a hidden pocket, he produced a small glowing bottle, an Elixir, and held it out to her.  “Here, drink this,” he ordered.

Cordelia glanced at it and frowned.  She needed some sort of healing item, but Elixirs were rare and expensive, and best saved for serious or fatal wounds.  She was hurt, but not _that_ hurt.  She shook her head and tried to tell him this, but the best she could do was whisper, “Not... that.   _*cough*_ Too... much.”

Lon’qu scowled and tried to force it in her hands, but she would not allow it.  With a dark expression, he huffed and stood up.  She followed his movements as he returned to the fallen General and kicked the body roughly to turn it over.  Next, he bent down and rummaged through the rent armor, searching for anything useful, as well as removing the knife from the cold flesh of the neck.  After a few moments, he returned to her side. 

He had managed to pilfer a few vials of a pinkish liquid from his vanquished foe, probably Sweet Tinctures.  While quite weak in the spectrum of healing potions, it would be enough to numb her discomfort until she could see Lissa or one of the other healers.  With a small smile, she accepted the tiny bottle and uncorked it.  She sat up a little straighter and slowly sipped the soothing liquid, acutely aware of Lon’qu watching her every movement as he sat down next to her again.

She set the bottle down and rubbed the front of her neck, grimacing at how tender it felt.  She would probably have some nasty bruises later.  But it was much easier to breathe now, and her throat didn't feel quite so constricted.

Cordelia sighed in relief and turned to face her savior.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

He glanced away from her, his gaze hard and the corners of his mouth firmly turned down.  “Hmph.”  He busied himself with removing his sticky, blood-stained gloves, shaking them out to dry them, as well as wiping the blade of the small knife on his clothes.

She was about to express her displeasure at his gruff acceptance, but then she caught a closer glimpse of the handheld weapon.  She raised her eyebrows.  “L-Lon’qu... is that...?”

He turned the knife in his hand steadily, his cheeks lighting up.  “Um... y-yes.  I always meant to return it to you, but...”  He trailed off, unable or unwilling to elaborate further.

“Slipped your mind, maybe?” she guessed, smiling a little. 

He nodded and reluctantly offered her the hilt.  

Cordelia moved to take it from him but instead, took his clenched hand in both of hers.  With great effort, she looked into his eyes.  “T-thank you, Lon’qu,” she trembled, hoping he knew that she was not referring to the knife.

Without the intensity of the battle, the realization that she had been nearly strangled to death hit her.  Her body started to shake, and she was almost overwhelmed with gratitude.  Her throat was raw; despite having consumed the Sweet Tincture, she was still in pain and could yet feel the ghostly sensations of that cruel hand on her neck.  Her head hurt and she felt nauseous.

Not wanting to strain their already tumultuous relationship by either crying or throwing up in front of him, she hastily let go and turned away.  Using her hands on the ground to balance herself, she gradually got to her feet so that she was in a crouched position.  She waited a few beats for the lingering dizziness to fade, and then straightened her knees shakily to stand.  

She had barely begun to try to collect her thoughts when he was at her side again.  She managed to take a few tentative steps, but he stopped her.  

This time, Lon’qu had taken _her_ hand (though he had put his gloves back on), tugging gently so that she had to spin around and face him.  She blinked rapidly to stop the tears threatening to fall and gasped softly when a clearer vision allowed her to see the expression on his face.

It was difficult to put a single name to the way he was looking at her.  Lost was the first thing she thought of, as though he could not decide how to feel.  He was frowning, which was not unusual, but not the way he did when he was irritated or angry.  Upset would probably be closer to the mark.  Likewise, his eyes spoke of disbelief, like he couldn't wrap his head around something.  His gaze roved up and down her whole body, taking stock of her injuries.

Finally, she could stand the scrutiny and silence no more.  She fidgeted and chewed on her bottom lip.  “Lon’qu?” she prompted when it became obvious that he wasn't going to say anything.

Her hoarse voice spurred him into action.  He growled and released her fingers.  Then he swooped in and pulled her close; one arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other settled around her waist, embracing her tightly.

Cordelia blushed feverishly, turning her head to look away from him, her face coming to rest just on the side of his chest under his shoulder.  Her body had stiffened from shock, but she did not try to pull away.  Encouraged by the lack of resistance, she felt him bow his head next to hers, his shaky breath fanning her neck and ear, making her shiver.

She didn't move or speak.  She had no idea what was going through _his_ mind, but for her part, she felt  rather relieved and comforted.  He was warm, so very warm and strong.  There was no place she had ever felt more safe that either by his side or in his arms.  It had been her intent to seek help and healing from Robin and the others right away, but somehow, this felt better.  She took several deep, burning breaths, letting her body melt against his.

Feeling her relax caused him to tighten his hold on her.  He sighed and mumbled, “D-don’t... don’t you EVER do that to me again.  I couldn't bear it...”

Cordelia grimaced, knowing that this situation was in some ways similar to the trauma he’d experienced with Ke’ri, and she instantly felt guilty for reopening old wounds.

“I’m sorry, Lon’qu.  I got careless,” she said.  “I should have known better.”   She pulled back just a little, keeping her head low.  “I’m... I’m sorry you saw that.  I’m sorry if it reminded you... if I made you...”  She couldn't say it.

There was a very pregnant pause, and she wondered if she should take the initiative to break the continued contact.  But a low growl startled her enough to look up at him.

Lon’qu was glaring at her again.  He released her from the hug, but did not let her go anywhere.  Instead, his hands came to rest on her arms instead, fingers wrapping around her biceps as though he intended to shake her.  “You idiot!”

“E-excuse me?”

“Ugh, this woman!” he grumbled to himself.  “I’m not talking about...  It wasn't just because...” He was getting worked up now.  “Cordelia, I... you can’t just...” His brow scrunched further.  “If you die out that, I’m... I’ll... Ngh!  I’ll kill you!”

She knew it wasn't an actual threat, but she had no idea what he was talking about.  “Lon’qu, you’re not making any sense.”

His face softened, just a little.  He pulled her closer again.  “Cordelia, I...”

“This is it; he’s gonna do it!”

“No he’s not.”

Both of them froze and Lon’qu blanched and loosened his grip.  A tiny nod between them verified that they had both heard the voices and they glanced around.  They did not have to wait long for their suspicions to be confirmed.

“He has to!  He’ll never get a better setup than this,” said a female voice.

A male answered her.  “I’m telling you, he’s gonna chicken out again!”

 _‘What is going on?’_ Cordelia wondered, feeling quite lost.  Apparently, they were being watched, but she had no idea why.  A glance at her partner didn't provide any insight either.  His eyes were shut tight and his jaw was rigid.  She could just faintly see a vein in his neck beginning to darken and bulge.  

“Will you keep quiet?  They’ll hear us!”

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’?  Of course, he won’t do it with us watching, which means you’ll win by default!  Hey, that’s your plan isn't it?”  The woman’s voice jumped up in volume.  “You cheater!”  

By this point, Lon’qu had had enough.  He abruptly let go, leaving her cold and oddly disappointed, and marched off to find the source of the voices.  They were coming from one of the haphazardly stacked walls of supplies nearby, left there by Valmese harbor guards who were probably supposed to transport them to their own ships.

She didn't know what he said or did, but his actions caused Gaius and Lissa to scramble out of their hiding spot, looking quite sheepish.  She wanted to give the couple a piece of her own mind, but the War Cleric didn’t give her the opportunity. 

Lissa gasped and rushed over to her, exchanging her Short Ax for a healing staff.  “Oh my gosh!  I”m so sorry!  I didn't know you were hurt this bad!”  She leaned in close and scrutinized Cordelia’s red, swollen neck, twisting her own to thoroughly examine it from various angles.  Then she tentatively reached out to touch a smear of crimson on her Falcon Knight armor.

Cordelia caught on to the reason behind the worried gaze.  “I’m okay, Lissa.  This blood isn't mine.”  There’d been some transfer from Lon’qu’s clothes when he held her.

Suddenly, the princess glanced over her shoulder and gaped yet again.  “Oh no!  Your pegasus!”

The redhead spun around and felt the blood leave her face.  With everything that had just happened, she’d completely forgotten about poor Catria.  The animal was alive, but lying down on her uninjured side.  She whined weakly as Cordelia hurried over and kneeled down to tenderly caress her head, leaving Lissa to check her wounded wing.

Several sets of footprints approached from behind them.  A short glimpse revealed Lon’qu and Gaius, leading Robin, Chrom, Sumia, and a limping Frederick.  Her fellow pegasus knight ran over to assist.

“Will she be alright?” Sumia inquired, stroking the steed’s flank soothingly.

Lissa shrugged tentatively.  “I think she’ll live, but this is pretty bad.”

“What should we do?” Cordelia asked, willing and eager to tend to her friend and forgo treatment for her own wounds.

Robin stepped forward and set a hand on her shoulder.  “ _You_ should come with me for now,” she told her.  “You need to be treated as well.  Trust them to look after her while I take you to see one of the other healers.”

“But I...”

The tactician gave her a stern, motherly sort of look that brokered no argument.  “No ‘buts’.  We can’t afford to take any chances.  Besides,” and now she smiled and spoke more delicately, “there’s a young Sage back at the ship who’s worrying himself sick over you.”

Cordelia ducked her head in shame.  She hadn't considered that.  Ricken must be unnecessarily beating himself up for leaving her alone, even though he was only following her orders.  It was that, more than her physical discomfort, that made her nod and accept her offered hand.

Robin helped her up and dropped an arm around her shoulder.  Then she pulled her away so she couldn't change her mind, guiding her to join the likewise injured Frederick.

As soon as they were out of the way, Lon’qu, Chrom and Gaius took her place, ready to take orders from Lissa and Sumia on the best way to treat a pegasus.

Cordelia observed with Robin a moment more, hardly able to keep up with her own thoughts and feelings.  But then her eyes strayed to Lon’qu, marveling at the gentle way he was petting Catria’s neck to keep her calm.  The other two men were helping as well, but she didn't really notice what they were doing.  She just couldn't seem to look away from the Swordsman.

Lon’qu looked up and gave her a slight, reassuring tilt of his head, and somehow her worry receded.

Finally, Robin firmly led her and Frederick away from them, back towards the ship.  She kept her arm around Cordelia’s shoulder for support.  She was grateful for that, but for some reason, she ached for Lon’qu’s firm embrace instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	21. Review

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking such a long time to post the rest of this. Sometimes I get writer A.D.D. and can’t focus on one story at a time. When I get stuck on one, I work on a different one until I figure out where I was going with it. Anyway, thanks again for sticking with it so far! We’re almost to the end!
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so that I could play around with some of the other female characters. I agonized over the dialogue for each one. I hope I did them justice, especially Miriel. She’s fun to write. If anyone has any suggestions to more accurately reflect each character, please don’t hesitate to say so.

_Now that we’ve covered all of the principles needed to land your man, let’s review some of the most important principles to make sure you fully understand everything you need to do in order to be successful in your quest for romance..._

In the days that followed her near-death experience, Cordelia was kept on a reserve roster and ordered to take it easy.  She was not even allowed to help with mundane chores, and all of her usual duties were distributed amongst the rest of the Shepherds.  Ricken tried to take the lion’s share of the work as a means of some self-imposed recompense, but Cordelia and Robin would not allow it.

In the past, Cordelia would have found the enforced rest unbearable.  Her own mind was not kind to her, and having tasks to complete prevented her from having to face the enemy within.  But after counseling with Libra, she’d decided that it was time for her to stop avoiding her innermost thoughts and spend the energy to do some serious soul searching, as well as process the trauma she’d endured.

Her body was immediately well tended to and healed.  Even the bruises had faded within a few days.  It was navigating the tangled maze of thoughts and feelings that was proving more problematic.

The first wave of raw emotion to overtake her was a heavy sense of guilt.  First of all, Ricken was still beating himself up over the whole ordeal, though many were working to convince him that he was not at fault for Cordelia’s misfortune.  She hated that he was so hard on himself, but she was hardly one to talk.  

One of the most difficult challenges for her was the loss of Catria as her battle mount, for although the pegasus survived, her wing was damaged beyond full repair.  It was with heavy hearts that Lissa and Sumia informed her that the steed would never fly again, and so her fellow knight was in the process of preparing a new one for combat use.  Cordelia had no choice but to accept their lot, but she insisted that Catria, if she was agreeable, should still accompany them throughout the war.  There were some debate over the matter, but Robin, Sumia, and, surprisingly, Panne backed her request.  The pegasus might not be able to fly, but she could still serve in other capacities, one of which was to help keep the other animals calm and comforted.  Moreover, Panne told them that she would not be parted from her rider, no matter the disability, and at last, Chrom granted her suit.

Cordelia then spent countless hours brushing and stroking her most stalwart companion, and weeping by her side, her shame only lessening when Panne informed her that Catria bore no ill will nor blamed her for what happened.  She was somewhat shocked by the revelation, and even more so when the Taguel did not seek retribution on her behalf; she was immensely fond of Catria.

Instead, Panne licked away her tears and remarked that she did not understand why humans were stubbornly determined to bear blame for circumstances beyond their control or foresight.  It was her words and council that did the most to assuage Cordelia’s sense of guilt.

Amazingly, Cherche also sought her out and offered counsel and an understanding ear.  Though their mounts were different, their immense love for them was not, and they spent more than a few afternoons swapping stories.  Once Cordelia had learned to set aside her misplaced jealousy, she too grew to like the Wyvern Rider.  They had a lot of little things in common and bonded over many of them, from Virion’s horrible attempts at flattery to laundry tips.

As for solace from the terror of the memory and the nightmares that followed, Lon’qu became her greatest source of comfort.  She endured many sleepless nights, wherein she would wander the camp after waking from dark dreams and the lingering sensation of hands around her throat.  She would make herself scarce from everyone the following morning, but he always seemed to find her, and that would inevitably result with her sobbing uncontrollably in his arms.

Cordelia had briefly wondered if her emotional outbursts or clingy behavior bothered him, but when she finally worked up the nerve to ask, she was pleasantly awed by his answer.

“There was a time when I would have found it unbearable,” he told her.  “And yes, it does make me a little uncomfortable at times.  However...” and he gave her that small, tender smile of his, “If it helps you feel better, I do not mind at all.”

After that, she habitually sought him out when he wasn’t predisposed.  Lon’qu’s presence always caused her to breathe a sigh of relief and relax, his silent strength reassuring her that she was safe.  Oftentimes they would talk quietly; Lon’qu would ask questions on occasion and listen to Cordelia ramble on about anything and everything.  She talked about a lot of little things: her favorite books, her preference for using homemade weapons, and the inspiration behind her ability to play the harp, among other things.  In turn, he would tell her stories of his youth, or recount some of the adventures he’d had with Gregor, and a few of the other Shepherds, during the two years following the Plegian War.  He even managed to make her laugh more than once, particularly when he shared rather humourous tales in that ever-serious tone of his.  She especially loved hearing him admit to playing “house” with Nowi; the thought of him pantomiming domestic chores never failed to send her into a fit of giggles.

Other times they’d simply bask in companionable tranquility.  He would bring along small stationary tasks, such as cleaning or sharpening weapons, while Cordelia would read or tend to Catria’s bandages.  In either case, she was happiest and felt the most at peace when she was with Lon’qu.

It felt like a long, slow process, but it had, in fact, taken little time to feel relatively normal again.  She had been lost in her own world, and barely noticed how far they’d traversed in their journey while she recovered.  By the time she was allowed to take part in combat and war proceedings once more, the Shepherds had freed the legendary Manakete, Lady Tiki, from her imprisonment in the Mila Tree, and had begun to rally supporters.

It was a solid step and a monumental victory towards uniting the resistance and forwarding the Shepherds’ cause.  To celebrate, and as a well-deserved reprieve, their new Chon’sin ally, Say’ri, secured lodging for them with one of the wealthier dynasts supporting their campaign.  Their benefactor was a hospitable and generous host, but also quite fearful of being discovered by Walhart’s spies.  While he gave them free access to his home and absurdly elegant facilities, they only had a few days to take advantage of it.

For that reason, Cordelia reluctantly allowed Sumia to drag her away from Catria and Lon’qu for some overdue “girl time”.  Apparently, the dynast was partial to bathhouses and saunas of immense extravagance, and the female Shepherds had decided to treat themselves to some pampering before the messy trials of the road coated their skin and hair again.  So after leaving the men to their own devices, the women settled into the biggest sauna available, hair pinned up and wrapped in towels.  They sat on long, wooden benches arranged in a U-shape with little room between each person, but they had long since grown comfortable enough to snuggle up.  Most enjoyed the literal and metaphorical closeness of such dear companions.

Cordelia smiled and laughed in easy conversation with all of them, and joy filled her at being surrounded by friends she loved and who loved her well.  It _had_ been quite awhile since she enjoyed such moments, even if part of her would rather be with Lon’qu instead.  She was growing increasingly attached to him in recent days.

She wondered if she should be alarmed by that.  

Of course, few gatherings of the women would be complete without at least a little discussion of men after some banter on other matters.  This one began with Say’ri casually commenting on a recent observation during Sully’s rant about respect.

“I have trained and fought in the midst of many groups,” she began, “but I have never been a part of an army such as this.  The camaraderie among the Shepherds is so deep and unyielding.  Pray, tell me, is this because so many of you have spouses in your ranks?”

Miriel opted to answer first, squinting without her glasses through the steam.  “That is not necessarily an inaccurate assumption, as most of the Shepherds’ top ranking officials have entered into domestic contracts and cohabitation, but empirical data has shown that relationships built on mutual trust and common goals will suffice.  Such traits are necessary to produce an effective military; marriage amalgamations are simply a byproduct of that trust evolving to include shared intellectual interests, personality compatibility, and primal attraction.”

There were mixed reactions to the scholar’s explanation.  Some of the women were soundlessly repeating her words, attempting to decipher them, while others just chuckled.

Robin was part of the latter group, having long since taught herself to translate “Miriel”.  “What she means, Say’ri, is that in some cases, the fact that there are quite a few couples in our army does provide us with an advantage.  The same give and take required for a marriage to work is similar to what’s needed to form cohesive combat units.  All it takes is a little time spent together to establish a presence in one another’s life.”

Say’ri nodded just as Sully grinned and huffed, “Yeah, but ya gotta be careful.  You let someone hang around too long, and you’ll never be able to get rid of them.”  This generated another round of laughter.

“Or, you find that their particular charms endear themselves to you in such a way that you would rather not do without them,” Maribelle put in.

 _‘Well, that is certainly true,’_ Cordelia thought, unable to stop herself from thinking of Lon’qu and smiling with a happy sigh.  After all the time they’d spent together, from the day they met until now, the gruff Swordsman had grown on her in a way she could not have predicted otherwise.  And the two years that they had spent apart from one another had helped her realize that she would prefer him to remain a part of her life.

“Fie... an army hardly seems a likely place to find romance,” said Say’ri.  “How can one follow proper courting rituals when one is constantly on the move or engaged in battle?”

Lissa snorted as she flicked aside her damp, blonde bangs.  “Psh!  Courting is SOO overrated.  I didn’t need to follow some snooty rituals to find love.”

Maribelle frowned and cleared her throat.  “Darling, such ‘snooty rituals’ are put in place to fairly protect the interest of both parties.  They can be extremely beneficial to ensure that the couple will be happy and secure.”

“Oh, come on, Maribelle!  It’s not like you and Donny followed any kind of procedures, and you’re both happy.  Right?”

The duchess flushed and nodded.  “Well, yes of course, dear.  But rest assured, if we had met under more favorable circumstances, I would have insisted that we adhere to protocol.”

“Really?  Like what?” Nowi chimed in.

“Hmm...” Maribelle folded her hands in her lap.  “Well, one of my first responsibilities would have been to create, or at least oversee the preparation, of an extravagant, home-cooked meal, to showcase my ability to run a household.”  Her expression was one of haughty experience when she said, “The way to a man’s heart IS through his stomach after all.”

Lissa shrugged.  “I guess I can’t really argue with that.  Gaius is a lot more affectionate when I bake stuff for him.  Makes me glad I’ve gotten better at it!”

There were a few murmurs of agreement all around, but Sully interrupted with derisive snort.  “Har har!  If cooking is what it took to land a man, I’d still be single.  I can’t even LOOK at a stove without setting something on fire.”

Anna, who was seated next to the sprawled out Paladin, turned to leer at her with a smirk.  “Food seems to be the least of Virion’s concerns, Sully.  He’s far more interested in the _other_ goods you have on display.”  She punctuated her point by running a hand up one of Sully’s well-toned legs.

“H-hey!”  Sully slapped the hand and scooted away with a furious blush.  As the others laughed, she crossed her legs and tried to pull the edge of her towel down a little more to cover herself.

Cordelia wiped away tears of mirth.  While everyone else  continued to settle, she offered her opinion on the matter.  “Obviously, I don’t have much to contribute when it comes to attracting a husband, but I do agree somewhat on the food issue.  Lon’qu began to open up to me as a friend after I starting serving his favorite meal whenever I was on cooking detail.  We started having real conversations after that.”

The room grew eerily quiet, as everyone turned their attention to her. 

Say’ri leaned forward a little, brows narrowed.  “That Swordsman... Lon’qu was it?  He is _only_ a friend?”

Cordelia inclined her head, unsure of her meaning.  “Well, yes.  Of course.”

A few of the girls fidgeted, while others sighed or cleared their throats.  The rest groaned and rolled their eyes, Tharja being one of them.  “You have _got_ to be kidding me,” she muttered darkly.  

Robin elbowed the Sorceress none-too-gently.  “Not a word,” she hissed.

Cordelia glanced around at the assembled females.  “Am I missing something here?” she wondered.

Lucina must have picked up on some kind of cue from her mother, for she was quick to steer the conversation along to other subjects.  “Oh, Miriel!  I meant to ask... have you and Ricken finally set a wedding date yet?”

The Sage tensed just a fraction when all eyes focused on her.  “Ahem... we have not strictly designated a specific day to conduct a formal ceremony, no.  The only arrangement we have agreed upon is the general epoch in which to base our decision...”

Cordelia tuned out the discussion for a moment in order to analyze the previous statements.  What had Say’ri been implying when she asked if she and Lon’qu were friends?  Of course it should be obvious that the two of them cared for one another, as friends should.  She had similar relationships with ALL the male Shepherds, all quite casual, even the ones that were married.  There had never been any questions about it before.

On the other hand, now that she thought about it, maybe there was a significant difference in the way she felt about and regarded him.  With all of the others, there were very clear boundaries so as to protect everyone’s integrity.  She did spent time with and held conversations with the other men, but she was always careful to keep them from becoming too personal or emotionally charged.  She didn’t even have to worry about it much anyway, as she had no desire to deeply know or be known by them.  She did not confide in them her joys or her fears.  And while she cared for all and would grieve to lose them, it would not break her if death, distance, or the passage of time should part them.

But... this was not so with Lon’qu.

Cordelia bit her lip and attempted to tune back into the continued dialogue going on around her.

“...does seem like Ricken finally has a more upbeat attitude lately,” Cherche was saying.

Miriel gave one of her rare, small smiles.  “While the prospect of impending nuptials does indeed have a tendency to induce euphoric reactions, I believe the reason for his recent exuberance is my intentional escalation of positive reinforcement.  Affirmation is both an art and a science that never fails to revitalize a more agreeable temperament.”

“You humans certainly seem to need more praise than the Taguel do,” Panne grumbled.  She was less-than-thrilled at being cajoled into joining this gathering; she did not function well in such heat and had kept to herself thus far.

Olivia shrunk her body as small as possible and whispered, “W-well, encouragement helps build confidence.  We all need to be told that we’re appreciated from time to time.”

“She’s right,” Sumia insisted.  “Everybody needs a boost now and again.  Sometimes, you don’t even need to say anything.  I feel the most loved when Frederick makes time to spend with me, especially when he’s so busy.  And whenever I feel down about something, he’s always there to tell me that everything’s okay, or hold me when I cry.  And I always try to do the same for him.”

Cordelia had to concur with that.  She couldn’t deny that there was a little flutter of happiness in her chest whenever Lon’qu sought her out, no matter the reason.  And recently, she found that his words and actions carried more weight than others, particularly when she was upset about something.  Perhaps it was because he was so willing to care for her, even when she was in her worst emotional states, regardless of his own discomfort.

Furthermore, she felt a strong sense of satisfaction when their roles were reversed.  In the past few weeks, she had made a point to see him everyday, even if only for a few minutes.  He could still be rather stoic most of the time, but he always smiled, just for a moment, when she called out to him.  And now that she thought about it, he was far more willing to be vulnerable in her presence than he was with anyone else.  She sometimes forgot about his extreme phobia, because he no longer exhibited any acute symptoms with her.

A multitude of disjointed pieces fell into place in her mind, and she shook with the realization.   _‘Oh gods... it can’t be!’_

“Okay!  I think I’ve had enough of this mushy crap,” Sully declared.  She slapped her palms on her knees and pushed herself up to stand.  She used one hand to ensure that her towel would not fall off as she walked towards the exit.  “I’m ready to hit the showers.  Who’s with me?”  

Panne hastened to follow, complaining under her breath about the heat and the smell trapped in the confining room.  Their lead spurred most of the others into motion as well, each of them warily holding their bare coverings in place, until Cordelia was the only one left sitting, frozen in stunned contemplation.

She sat alone for a few minutes, her thoughts whirling while her heart hammered in her rib cage.  Eventually, the door reopened, and Miriel poked her head back in.  

“Cordelia?  Is something amiss?”

“W-what?  N-no, everything’s fine.”  She wiped a hand across her face, hoping that the Sage would assume her flushed complexion was still the result of the high temperature.  “I’m coming.”  She smiled nervously and hurried after the others, choosing to overlook Miriel’s suspicious glance.

Cordelia trailed at the back of the procession, keeping her head bowed so as not to draw attention to herself.  A few of the girls continued to chat cheerfully and took no notice of her sudden predicament, so thankfully, she was able to bathe and dress without interruption, while trying to wrap her mind around the unexpected awareness of something that was probably a long time coming.

It was only after she had finished combing her hair and beginning to gather her things that one of them approached her again.  Say’ri appeared just as she was heading for the exit, her expression completely calm.  “Lady Cordelia, are you heading back to your quarters now?”

She shuffled a little on her feet and tried for an steady smile.  “Yes, I am.  I’m quite tired, and I was thinking of turning in early.  And please... just ‘Cordelia’ is fine.”

Say’ri nodded.  “Aye.  T’would be wise to rest while we have the opportunity.  May I accompany you for a moment?  I would like to speak to you about something.”

Cordelia flinched, but she did not know why.  She had no reason to be wary of the Chon’sin Swordswoman.  “Very well.”  Since her arms were laden with dirty clothes and bathing supplies, Say’ri held the bath house door open for her and followed at a sedated pace towards the guest houses that had been temporarily allocated to them.

“I wish to offer my apologies for my rude assumption earlier.  It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable,” Say’ri said, hardly waiting for a momentary pause.

“I’m sorry?”  Cordelia questioned, having already forgotten half of the discussions that had taken place in the sauna.

“It was not my place to question the nature of your relationship with Lon’qu, especially in front of others,” she clarified.

Cordelia blushed and looked away.  “Oh.  U-um, it’s fine, I guess.  No harm done.”

“Not directly, perhaps, but I noticed some contention among the others when it was mentioned.  I know that I am new here, and forgive me for being so bold, but I do not think I am the only to see that there is more to your relationship than you would have us believe.”  Say’ri declared.

“I... I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Say’ri refrained from speaking for a few minutes, but then decided to indirectly press the issue some more.  “Hmm... mayhap I should ask Lon’qu for his thoughts on the matter.  I have been looking for an opportunity to speak with him.  I had heard that he was born in Chon’sin, and I should like to get to know him.  We may find common ground on which to bond, and since so many have found love in this army...”

Cordelia panicked and almost dropped her things.  “Oh please, don’t!  I-I mean...”

Say’ri chuckled at her outburst.  “I must beg your forgiveness again.  ‘Twas only a jest, but it reveals your heart nonetheless.”

It was a clever trap , and Cordelia didn’t know whether she should be outraged or humiliated.

The Swordswoman stopped walking and glanced around.  She gestured for Cordelia to come closer so that she could whisper, “It is obvious that there is a deep connection between the two of you, though you may not know it.  But time is fleeting. I am not one to interfere for the sake of my own interests, but others may not be so kind.  If you do not wish for rivals in love, you must hesitate no more.  Delayed reaction is often the cause of loss and much sorrow, both in love and war.”

When Cordelia did not respond, Say’ri stepped back again and smiled.  “As for myself, I concede defeat and will not pursue him.”  She then gave a low bow and turned away to find her own quarters.  “There is hope, milady.  Good luck!”  And with that, she was gone.

Cordelia stood in the same spot, completely motionless, unable to put her thoughts in any semblance of order.  A few short conversations and a little reflection had changed everything, and she felt utterly lost.  Eventually, she retreated to the guest room that had been provided and deposited her things on the floor, intending to put them away later.  She plopped down on the bed and buried her face in her hands, her mind full to bursting with memories, and her heart aching from long suppressed feelings.

 _‘Cordelia, you hopeless fool!’_ she chastised herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Catria. Sorry I took her out, but since Severa makes no mention of Cordelia’s pegasus, I thought that maybe she no longer used her in battle, as opposed to Sumia and Cherche’s animals. I know that she said that she didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps, but I wanted propose an additional reason for it as well.


	22. Interpretation

**Interpretation**

There was absolutely no question that Cordelia possessed an immensely strong will.  Many often attributed her plethora of abilities to natural talent, which she did indeed have, but most did not take into account that whenever she set her mind to something, she would pour all of her effort into achieving her goals.  She would not conquer every obstacle placed in her path, of course, but she did not shirk from challenges, nor allow distractions to turn her focus.  

Perhaps it was that stubborn single-mindedness that kept her from acknowledging what was happening between her and Lon’qu.  She had kept her gaze fixed upon Chrom for so long, and then her duties as a pegasus knight, thereby allowing her to ignore the signs of romantic attraction.

But her compulsory rest and the recent conversations with the other female Shepherds finally brought her latent feelings to the surface.  She could no longer pretend that Lon’qu was just another friend, that their relationship was precisely identical to that which she shared with everyone else.  He was a category all on his own, more dear to her heart than any had ever been, including her former unrequited love.  

She didn’t quite understand the precise difference at first, so she spent a few days watching Chrom in battle, trying to decipher what it was that set them apart.  After careful observation and a thorough recollection of past conversations, she at last figured it out.

In the eyes of some women, Cordelia included, Chrom was an idol, an imaginary product that fulfilled unrealistic fantasies.  He was like a dream, a flawless figure that she had hoped would grant her significance and acceptance.   And he was a consuming firestorm, dominating her thoughts and actions until she no longer knew who she was or what she truly wanted.  She could not exist independently from him, because he knew nothing of her, and she allowed him to define her.

Lon’qu, on the other hand, was as imperfect and insecure as anyone else, and though he did not broadcast it, he did not pretend to be otherwise.  He challenged Cordelia and did not allow her to run or hide from conflict, because he knew her, and accepted her.  He was a sure and steady warmth, that gave her permission to be herself, to find fulfillment alone, if that was her wont.

Any happiness she had felt with Chrom was fleeting and dependent upon his opinion of her.  The joy she had with Lon’qu was the byproduct of a _mutual_ friendship and presence.  

Both men were attractive, but Lon’qu was more so in her eyes, because she saw the heart and soul beyond the body, and recognized the meaning behind nearly every movement, nonverbal tick, and expression.

It had been a slow and steady build, but she finally understood...

Cordelia had fallen in love with Lon’qu.

She had no idea what to do about it.

Cordelia knew she had a long track record of running away from her problems.  By misusing her indomitable will and strong focus, she could blur out the world and anything that made her uncomfortable until she almost believed her fears were nonexistent.  But such tactics never worked, and though she might feel safe in the moment, there were always consequences, and others were often hurt by her cowardice (usually Lon’qu).  

She hadn’t made up her mind on what she should do about these newfound feelings, but she was determined not to repeat past mistakes.  Therefore, she continued on as though nothing had changed.  She completed her usual duties without taking on any extras, lest she be tempted to bury herself in them.  When battle came, she fought with every ounce of bravery and skill she possessed, and followed every order given.  She trained diligently with her superiors and her subordinates, and the only additional task she allotted herself was getting used to her new pegasus (whom she named Tiamo, in light of her current predicament).  And finally, she continued to spend nearly every spare moment available with Lon’qu.

It was a strange thing indeed.  Whenever she was getting ready to go see him, she now felt incredibly nervous and shy, bordering on self-conscious.  There was a time when she thought he might hold some feelings for her, but she could not be sure anymore.  She was filled with doubt, wondering if he had moved on, and if she should brooch the subject or let things be.  She did not want to lose his friendship due to any more misunderstandings or unreciprocated affection, especially now that they’ve put their past grievances behind them.

Yet in spite of this, there was still an ease in their conversations and a security in tranquil moments.  She might enter his presence with practiced indifference and a guarded heart, all stiff spine and tense shoulders, but she always left with a spring in her step and a grin the bordered on silly.

Cordelia thought that she could be satisfied with the way things were, for the time being at least, and was careful not to give herself away.  But as the days passed, it became far more difficult to be content with the relationship as it was.  When the army moved on and they walked side-by-side in formation, she wondered what it would be like to hold his hand in unashamed affection.  She longed for the feel of his arms around her and imagined what it might be like if his sporadic, gentle embraces were a little less gentle and a lot less infrequent.

She watched his lips move to form words, and wondered what it would be like to feel them move against hers.  And she woke from vivid dreams of dark eyes and calloused hands, her body far too sensitive as it burned with repressed desire.        

Sometimes, she even went so far as to take a closer look at her female friends’ wedding rings, analyzing the designs to see what she would prefer.  She stared at her left hand, imagining a band upon her finger, and sounded out their names together.  

_Lon’qu and Cordelia... Cordelia’ and Lon’qu..._

It had a nice ring to it, pun unfortunately intended.

Cordelia tried not to think about it, but she was worried that the more effort she put forth into appearing perfectly fine, the more obvious it would be that she was quite far from it.  If Henry’s assertion that “everyone” knew about her infatuation with Chrom was correct, then her love for Lon’qu was not going to stay contained for long either.  The collective reaction from the women during their sauna stay and Say’ri’s shrewd deductions would ensure that.  

And Lon’qu was not oblivious to her mood swings at all.  Neither was he tactful in pursuit of the reason for it.

“Something troubles you,” he pointed out one morning as they marched along.  They were trailing the end of the procession, both of them leading Cordelia’s pegasi by the straps of the bridles.  Currently, he was helping along Tiamo while she kept hold of Catria.  

Cordelia stared straight ahead, her face betraying nothing, but her hands tightened around Catria’s reins.  “It’s nothing important, Lon’qu,” she answered.  She knew there was no point in denying that her mind was elsewhere, but she could certainly downplay its significance.  

“Important or not, it has at least been enough to keep you distracted for some time,” Lon’qu said.  He lowered his voice when he asked, “Are you having nightmares again?”

“Hmm?  Oh... oh no.  It’s not that, I promise.  I’m doing well, in that regard.”  She turned towards him a little and smiled.  “Thanks to you, of course.”

Lon’qu cleared his throat and glanced away, but there was a little twitch to his lips, and he was fighting a blush.  They fell back into silence for a while, and Cordelia thought that he wasn’t going to press the issue any further.  For the most part, he knew when to step back and let things be, but it seemed that he wasn’t ready to drop it yet.

“You do know,” he started again, “that you can speak to me about other things that worry you.  I... I do not mind... as long as it’s you.”

When Cordelia chanced to look at him again, she was captivated once more by the gentle way he looked at her and the upturned corners of his mouth.  It was entirely unfair that such an expression from him could make her feel at once both treasured and exposed.  Her face and chest grew warm, and she bit her lip to keep from sighing with joy.  “I know that.  And I promise I will... when the time comes.  I just need to think on it further on my own first.”

He didn’t look satisfied with her answer, but this time, he did not push the matter.  “Very well, if you insist,” he said.  He looked to the road again and concentrated on following their leaders.

Cordelia watched him out of the corner of her eye, admiring his strong profile and drifting into daydreams again.  She felt an even stronger urge to reach out and take his hand, or to just blurt out the three little words that were ever on the tip of her tongue these days.  But fear stayed her voice, and Lon’qu’s hands were preoccupied, one on Tiamo’s harness and the other in one of his pockets.  

The movement of the fabric concealing his fingers indicated that he was playing with some concealed object, small enough to fit in the pocket without giving away its shape.  Cordelia noticed that he’d been doing that a lot lately, fingering something that distracted and agitated him.  She was quite curious about it, but did not ask what it was.

On the whole, the rest of the day was uneventful.  There was a skirmish with Risen, but there were no life threatening injuries among the Shepherds.  Cordelia had hoped to take part in the battle (perhaps with Lon’qu by her side) but the enemy forces had a great number of mage class warriors armed with variations of Wind tomes, so none of the fliers participated.  However, Lon’qu was sent out with Miriel, and after the battle, Cordelia was busy assisting the healers.  Her Falcon Knight training granted her the ability to wield healing staves, though she did not have the same level of skill as the clerics and priests.  

Afterwards, Lon’qu had a debriefing with Chrom and Robin, so Cordelia retired to her tent to change into more casual attire and to reflect on the situation.  Perhaps if she thought about it long enough, she might be able to come up with some sort of game plan.  She desperately wanted to address the issue, but she had so many doubts holding her back.  What if her feelings were so intense right now because of that recent trauma she’d faced?  What if Lon’qu didn’t care for her that way?  And even if he did, could they afford distractions in the midst of this desperate war?  Did he know about her former feelings for Chrom, and would he accept that he would always be a part of her in some way?  If all went well, if they survived the war and tried to build a future together, where would they go... Ylisse or Regna Ferox?  What would her role be then?  Was she able and willing to start a family?  Did she _want_ children?  Did he?

Cordelia stood up and started to pace around.  She chewed on her bottom lip and kept running her fingers through her hair, sometimes tearing at it when she groaned.  Her mind was racing and her heart was beating wildly.  After a few minutes of this, she cried out and kicked her traveling pack to try and let off some steam.  She was not usually one to express her frustration in such a way, but she was at a loss.  She wished she had some sort of guide to help her navigate through this, or at least help her build up some confidence.

Cordelia resumed pacing, but stopped again when she tripped over the spilled contents of her pack.  She swore loudly and resisted the urge to pick them up to throw them across the room.  Instead, she tried to take a few deep breaths.  Once she was at least somewhat calm, her meticulous nature kicked in, and she kneeled down to clean up her mess.  

 ****She did not give most of the items much thought when she shoved them back into her bag.  They were mostly little trinkets that she couldn’t bear to part with on this long journey: her customary wing-shaped hair clips, given to her by Captain Phila, a box of spearheads that were salvaged from the weapons of her fallen sisters, some jewelry, a journal with one of Sumia’s flowers pressed between the pages, and a few books.

She paused on the very last one.  The sprawling script of Make Him Fall For You in a Fortnight caught her eye, and she stared at with a sense of déjà vu.  

Cordelia set aside her pack and shifted to sit cross-legged on the ground, still looking at the cover of the book.  She wanted some clear instruction on what to do about her love for Lon’qu, but all of her previous attempts to follow the advice contained therein had been for naught.  But what choice did she have?  She was too embarrassed to ask for help from her friends, but she was equally embarrassed to peruse this book again.  At the moment, the very consideration of it only added to her dilemma.

“Cordelia?  Do you require assistance?”

She gasped at the sudden voice and her body jerked, causing her to drop the book on the floor.  She twisted to face the intruder and put a hand on her chest.  “Miriel!  You almost gave me a heart attack!”

The Sage met her glare with a frown.  “I highly doubt that my entrance, even if unanticipated, would facilitate the necessary conditions to produce a myocardial infarction in one as healthy as yourself.”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” Cordelia grumbled.  “What are you doing here?”

Miriel had merely poked her head in, but she seemed to take Cordelia’s question as permission to fully enter.  “I heard what I believed to be sounds of distress originating from your shelter.  I came to investigate the nature of them and offer my help, if needed.”

“Oh.  I’m fine.  I was just... thinking out loud, I suppose,” she answered with a forced smile.

Miriel scrutinized her in silence, her sharp eyes also darting around the tent in search of clues to confirm or deny Cordelia’s words.  Then her gaze fell on the pink tome.

Cordelia followed her line of sight and snatched the book, hiding it behind her back in vain.  Her cheeks heated up in shame and anger, but she could not think of anything to say.

Miriel adjusted her glasses and smirked.  “Ah... I believe I have a theory as to the nature of your tumultuous vocalizations.  You are endeavoring to formulate a plan that would garner affections of a romantic nature using the processes outlined in that book, in spite of the fact that its proposals were insufficient in your previous attempts with Lord Chrom.”

Cordelia opened her mouth to deny it, but at Miriel’s analytical stare, she hung her head, humiliated beyond words.

She heard Miriel sigh.  “I must admit that I am quite vexed by your misguided assertion that such measures are necessary.  It is already widely known that you and Lon’qu are deeply in love with one another.  The only ones not privy to this appear to be yourselves.”

Cordelia perked up, hardly daring to believe what she just heard.  Her heart fluttered as hope was rekindled in her soul.  “W-what did you say?”

Miriel made her displeasure known and shook her head.  “Must I elucidate such a universally accepted truth?  Lon’qu is in love with you.  And though you may not have acknowledged it aloud, you obviously reciprocate his feelings, do you not?”

“Er... w-well I...”  Cordelia trailed off as she and Miriel stared at one another in a battle of wills.  The astute scholar raised one brow in wordless reprimand, causing Cordelia to exhale and let her shoulders sag in defeat.  “Yes,” she whispered at last.  She did not know why, but confessing the truth out loud did not decrease the burden she felt.  She was plagued with so much doubt that she had a hard time believing that Miriel was speaking the truth about Lon’qu, even though she was not known to lie.

“Your tone implies that this outcome is both unforeseen as well as unwelcome.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened, and she shook her head.  “What?  N-no... not all!  Well... I admit that I was not expecting this but it’s hardly unwelcome.  It’s just...”  She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair again.  When she didn’t continue, Miriel cleared her throat to prod her on.  “You see, the thing is...”

She had no idea what prompted her to spill her guts just then, and to Miriel of all people.  In terms of female friends, she was much closer to Sumia and Robin, and usually consulted them with any problems she was having.  Later, she would guess that it may have partially been the woman’s matter-of-fact statement about Lon’qu’s feelings that encouraged her to reveal all of the negative thoughts that had been circling her brain.  She paced around the tent and rambled on until she ran out of things to say, or could think of no way to elaborate.  Then she waited for what she suspected would be a harsh or condescending reproach.

Miriel had kept quiet while she spoke, even though she looked like she wanted to interrupt at times.  Eventually, she said, “In the past, I might have referred to you as a rebarbative fool for permitting your actions to be dictated by self-destructive assumptions.  However, my relationship with Ricken has revealed that even I am not immune to such vices.  As a matter of fact, you and I share the commonality in that we both possess the tendency to over-analyze given situations.  In doing so, it becomes easy to overlook the most elementary facts.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Cordelia said.  

Miriel crossed her arms and closed her eyes for a moment.  When she opened them again, she sought for the copy of Make Him Fall For You in a Fortnight and picked it up.  Finally, she seated herself on Cordelia’s bedroll and opened the book.  “Since the methodology of this book has been the basis on which you’ve evaluated your potential as a mate, permit me to clarify  using the same principles.”  She flipped to the introduction of the first chapter.  “I don’t believe it necessary to go into great detail with some of these.  Even the new recruits, as well as the most oblivious of minds, have noticed that you and Lon’qu have become a fixture in each other’s lives.”  She jumped ahead to the second chapter.  “And it is no secret that he prefers your cooking over the culinary attempts of others.”  When she moved on the third, she glanced up with small smirk.  “You may not be privy to this, but Lon’qu is prone to staring at you when your gaze is elsewhere occupied.  Unless you possess some sort of captivating anomaly of which I am not aware, it is reasonable to conclude that he finds your form desirable.”

Cordelia blushed, but felt oddly pleased by that.

She continued on, turning pages as she went.  “I disagree unequivocally with the next section... and I believe you understand the value of affirmation.  Six is also rather dubious.”  She decided to skip ahead a few chapters.  “Ah... concerning gifts... You may recall lending Lon’qu a small blade to use during a mission over two years ago, correct?”  When Cordelia nodded, she told her, “You may not have given it much consideration, but it is not insignificant that he would not part with it, until recently.”

“I thought he just forgot to return it to me.”

Miriel spared her a glance, brows narrowed.  “I have reasons to dispute that view, but Chapters Eleven and Twelve provide a much more compelling argument.  Time and again, both of you have displayed a singular compulsion to provide physical and emotional stability for each other.”

“That’s not unique,” Cordelia contended, though she of course knew otherwise.  “I would do the same for any of my comrades.  And I think he would too, as long as it’s for one of the men.”

“And therein lies another facet to my point,” Miriel responded.  “Lon’qu’s exceptional phobia has indeed diminished, but not to such a degree that he is completely at ease with any female other than you.  Such a thing cannot be discredited.”  She didn’t give Cordelia time to think more on that.  “And answer me this: who is the first person you go to when you require support of any capacity?  And who does he turn to when he needs the same?”

Cordelia tried to come up with a rebuttal, but Miriel had made a valid case with that one.

“Finally,” she said, “When it comes to the life or death situations that we as Shepherds must face on a circadian basis, you are his primary concern, as he is yours, I suspect.  In fact, earlier today during our skirmish with the Risen, he remarked that you were the inspiration for the ferocity with which he fought.  Even though you were not participating in the battle, he was utterly determined that no harm should come to you ever again.”

Cordelia sank down to sit next to Miriel.  “He said that?” she whispered.

Miriel pushed her sliding glasses back to the bridge of her nose.  “Not in so many words,” she said.  “Regardless, while I still find the majority of the author’s counsel to be, at best, suspect or inaccurate, and at worst, appalling and sexist, it can be enlightening when one takes a step back to examine the whole.  It makes it apparent that love does, in fact, take work and sacrifice, though it forgets to mention that there must be mutual effort from both parties.”

She closed the book and examined the front cover.  “I must admit that I had my doubts of the effectiveness of the ideas expressed herein, however, by citing the instances in which its directives were mildly successful, one could make the persuasion that it delivered on its promises.  For while your initial purchase of this book was done with the intent to curry favor with Lord Chrom, it did have a hand in facilitating circumstances that attracted and deepened Lon’qu’s love for you.”

Cordelia hugged herself, mulling over Miriel’s observations.  Her scientific mind was not always correct, but she was very good at laying out the facts, and the conclusions she had drawn from them were very reasonable.  The more she considered her previous counterpoints, stated or not, the less likely they seemed.  Wasn’t there a saying that the simplest explanation was usually the correct one?  If that was the case, then she could assume that Lon’qu did indeed return her feelings.

But where did that leave them?  Knowing that didn’t really solve any of her other doubts and questions.  It did not reveal the path she should take from there.

“Your overall mien seems to indicate that such knowledge does not yet afford you peace.  May I offer a word of advice?”  Miriel asked, her voice oddly quiet.

Cordelia resumed eye contact and slowly nodded.

“You will never be completely free of uncertainty.  If war, or even life, teaches us anything, it is that there are eventualities that cannot be predicted, no matter the effort spent in attempting to do so.”  She traced the edges of the book with a finger.  “Over the past several years, I have scrutinized the interactions of nearly all of the Shepherds, male and female, in an attempt to understand the precise factors that might lead to relationships evolving beyond that of acquaintanceship or camaraderie.  I have identified a few generalizations on that matter, as I stated to Say’ri some time ago, but what I failed to expound upon was that love, as an intangible concept, is without foreseeable form.  Even if the ideal conditions are met, and that is another debatable topic, it does not necessarily mean that love will result.  Similarly, love may also grow from the most unlikely scenarios imaginable.  It is too complex to be quantified, because individuals are complex.”

“Where are you going with this, Miriel?” Cordelia asked, becoming a bit impatient.

Miriel frowned, not from anger, but rather to convey the gravity of her words.  “You will always find a reason to doubt or to hesitate, if you wish.  And if you insist on waiting for a time in which that is not the case, you might very well spend the rest of your life waiting.  Likewise, if you only proceed when you have a rigid plan in place, you will not be prepared to accommodate the unpredictable.  Inevitably, there comes a time in which you must simply take a risk, a leap of faith, as it were.  You must stop using _this_ ,” she poked Cordelia in the forehead, “and start using _this_ ,” then pointed to her heart.

Cordelia blinked rapidly, her lips parted in surprise.  “I... I must admit that I’m shocked to hear you of all people say such a thing.”  She waved her hands to placate the irritation on the Sage’s face.  “Sorry.  I meant no offense.”

Miriel nodded.  “I understand.  Believe me, I would not have envisioned myself offering such imprecise instruction either.”

Cordelia giggled.  “Which actually proves your point about love, does it not?”

Miriel smiled, a light red dusting her pale cheeks.  “Indeed it does.”  She stood up then and headed for the exit.  “And on that note, I think I shall retire for the evening and leave you to your thoughts.”  She held up the pink book.  “If we can agree that you no longer need this, may I borrow it?”

Cordelia quirked a brow but shrugged anyway.  “I suppose so.  But what do you need it for?  You’re committed to marrying Ricken when he comes of age, right?”

“Of course,” she affirmed.  “Once more, though, I have neglected to mention that, regardless of what I just stated, my investigation into the realm of love and relationships is ongoing.  Observing your efforts to earn affection via the manipulations found in this book have been most edifying, but definitive conclusions cannot be drawn from a singular trial.  In order to solidify the validity of my interpretation of the results, science demands that I replicate the experiment.”  There was a spark in her eye when she said, “I shall find another interested party and allow them to utilize it.  In that way, I can hopefully generate further data for my research.”  When Cordelia paled, she added, “Fear not.  I will not fail to cite you by name in my research paper so that all may know the source of my theories.  Good night then!”

“Oh gods... wait!”  Cordelia scrambled to her feet and hurried after Miriel’s retreating form.  “Wait!  I changed my mind!  I need it back!  MIRIEL!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we circle back. When I first started this, I always intended for this scene to happen. I just loved the idea of Miriel having a heart-to-heart about love, and I’m pretty happy with it.
> 
> I can’t believe it’s almost over! Just two more chapters.
> 
> Next time: the long awaited S Support! Hopefully coming soon (fingers crossed that I don’t have to work overtime for a while)!


	23. Conclusion

_**Conclusion** : Congratulations!  You’ve reached the end of the book, and therefore, you’ve successfully fulfilled all of the necessary principles and landed the man of your dreams.  Remember ladies... it only takes a fortnight to make him fall for you, but a lifetime of work to keep him.  But for that, you need only employ these three things: respect, honor, and love.  Do that, and even the worst of days can be a dream come true.  Good luck!_

“How is he doing?”

Cordelia glanced up and gave a half smile at Libra’s approach.  She accepted the steaming cup of tea he handed her, tilting her head in thanks, and then looked back over at Lon’qu.  She was watching him practice outside the camp in their temporary training field.  In truth, it wasn’t much of a camp, as the Shepherds had to be ready to move at the first sign of Yen’fay’s approaching forces.  As such, the only shelters that had been set up was the medical tent and the mess; the soldiers themselves had to make due sleeping under the stars.  

Her own wooden blade, which formerly belonged to Lon’qu, was laid across her lap.  She hadn’t been able to rest, and had come over to run through a few drills herself.  She’d had no intention to do too much, which is why she didn’t bother to put on her full armor, but once she got there, she became caught up in watching him instead.  His movements could be quite mesmerizing as well as informative, at least when she was able to focus on the technique itself rather than just appreciating the view.  

Cordelia shrugged in answer to his question as Libra sat down next to her on the ground, likewise turning his gaze to the Swordsman.  “He’s says he’s fine, but...”  She trailed off when she noticed Lon’qu miss a step that she knew he’d already perfected.  To the casual observer, his movements were as strong and fluid as ever, but there was a slight hesitation in each action, a nervous energy that hindered his usual poise. 

“Olivia’s worried too,” Libra confessed after a while.  “I think she would have been _without_ Lucina’s warning; it’s in her nature to be cautious, especially with those she cares about.”

Cordelia nodded, her features grave.  “Lon’qu insists that he has no reason to worry, because Basilio cannot be beaten, especially with Khan Flavia by his side.  But you’re right.  Lucina’s predication has shaken him as well.”  She glanced at the War Monk and smiled a little.  “He’ll never say it, but I think Basilio is like a father to him.”  Her voice dropped to a mumble.  “He’d be devastated if something happened to him.”

Libra agreed.  “As would Olivia.  But hopefully, their fears will prove to be unfounded.  As for us, the best we can do is have faith in their abilities, and pray for their safe return.”

Cordelia hummed.  “I know.  I wish there was more we could do to help.”  Her hands clenched around the cup.  “I hate feeling so powerless.  I just feel that I should be doing _something_ , you know?”

“I understand.  It’s never easy to wait, or to look on when someone you love refuses to give voice to their needs.  Fortunately, there _are_ subtle ways in which one might be able to help.”  Libra nudged her, an uncharacteristic smirk on his lips.  “Providing tasks or other diversions can ease the mind at times.  Perhaps you could come up with some way to distract Lon’qu from his cares.”

Cordelia scowled at him, though there was no real heat to the expression.  Ever since her conversation with Miriel a few days ago, she’d been bombarded with encouragement and sentiments of good luck in her pursuit of Lon’qu.  She had no idea what brought it on, as Miriel was not one to gossip, but she had been amused and embarrassed in equal measure.  She fully intended to tell Lon’qu how she felt, but the attack on Fort Steiger and the subsequent division of their troops forced her to put a hold on her plans.

Or at least, that was current excuse she was using.

“Do you think now would be a good time for that?” she whispered.  “I don’t want anyone to think that I am taking advantage of his vulnerable state.”

Libra appeared to give it some thought.  “I can understand your hesitation, but I doubt anyone would see it that way.  And, as I said, I am sure that it will be a welcome distraction.  Besides,” and he lowered his voice, “If the worst _should_ happen, the joy of having you at his side may lessen the pain that would inevitably come.”

She did not know how to respond such a statement and prayed, not for the first time, that it would not come to that.  It wasn’t the idea of supporting Lon’qu during a time of need that was unsettling; she was only too happy to do that.  Rather, she could not stand the thought of the one she loved enduring loss and grief yet again.  It might have been a foolish or naive notion, because it was an inevitability of life, but that didn’t make it easier.  

Libra stayed with her for a little longer, and then stood up to leave.  Cordelia glanced at him when he touched her shoulder with a smile and offered a parting wink.  She blushed and stuck her tongue out at him, knowing it was childish to do so, but she figured she’d earned it with all the innuendo she’d had to endure in recent days.

Once Libra was gone, she turned back to Lon’qu, her eyes tracking sword strikes and foot placement while she drank the tea he’d brought her.  After she’d drained the cup, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing her lungs to fill completely before she exhaled at a steady pace.  When she opened them again, her features were steeled as though readied for battle, and she stood, leaving the empty mug on the ground.

Cordelia swung her practice sword a few times, recalling everything she’d learned from the first moment she began training with Lon’qu.  There had been no opportunity for them to practice together since their reunion at the start of this war, and she was eager to show him how far she’d come, in more than just fencing.  She hoped that by demonstrating at least a portion of what she had learned, her skills might impress him, and his approval in turn would quiet the reservations she still had about revealing her heart.

Contrary to Miriel’s assertion that one could not always plan for these things, Cordelia did not desire to walk into this blindly.  She wanted at least _some_ idea of what she was going to say and do when she told Lon’qu how she felt.  She had not thought to do it tonight; she would have taken more care with her appearance if she had, but she understood now that there would probably be no perfect moment, no idyllic romantic setting to confess.  The longer she deluded herself into believing that there would be if she waited long enough, the more likely is was that something irrevocable would happen to one or both of them.

 _‘This is it.  Now or never,’_ she told herself.  She willed the metaphorical butterflies in the her stomach to settle, to no avail, and approached Lon’qu with as much confidence as she was able to muster.

He’d known she was there the whole time, but he did not object to her presence when she’d first sat down.  Save for a short greeting, he did not say much of anything, not even to question her intent or obvious anxiousness.  But now that she approaching, he paused and stood still, his breath coming in short gasps.  He raised an eyebrow when she stopped a few feet away from him, his eyes searching hers in wordless query.

Cordelia smirked and slowly raised her wooden blade with one hand, watching as Lon’qu followed the movement with his eyes.  She brought her other hand to the hilt just as it came to shoulder height and stepped back with one foot, her knees bent and core engaged in a strong myrmidon stance.  She only gave him a few seconds to ready himself before she charged with a cry.  She stepped wide to the left and right when she rushed forward, weaving so as to keep him guessing at which direction her strike would come.  The moment she was in range, she thrust the sword at his chest in a direct horizontal assault.

He blocked with no difficulty whatsoever, but his eyes widened just a fraction to indicate his shock at such a bold move.  Indeed, few swordsman would ever begin a duel that way, because it _was_ so easy parry, opting instead to strike at various angles until an opening revealed itself.  But Cordelia was first and foremost a pegasus knight, and her favorite and primary weapon would always be the lance, no matter what other weapons she added to her arsenal.  She may have perfected the techniques Lon’qu had taught her, but she had taken the extra step to suit her needs and default fighting style.  By combining her years of training with spears with what she’d learned from him, she’d created a new form that was highly effective because of its unpredictability.

“Hngh... hymph!”  Lon’qu used his superior upper body strength to push her back, but she did not resist.  Instead she rolled with the momentum so that she would not lose her balance.  Before he could mount an attack of his own, she struck again.  This time, she slashed at his left side, spun around the inside of his block, and swung her sword at his head in a downward vertical strike.  He parried while taking a few steps backwards.

“Heh... not half bad,” he chuckled.

Her smirk widened, and she nodded in appreciation.  

They traded a few more blows, both aiming for the most vulnerable areas of the upper body.  Cordelia waited until the force of their movements had sent them reeling away from each other, and then employed her own methods to re-engage and keep him on the defensive.  This time, she lunged low to the ground and  swept her weapon in a wide arc, aiming for his legs in the same motion she would use with her lance.  “Hi-yah!”  He jumped over it, but was forced to duck immediately after when she used the energy generated by the rotation to twist back up to her full height and swing for his head.  “Gwaah!”

During her next onslaught, she followed the strike sequence that was usually utilized with Astra, and countered his own version of it by dodging, while stabbing at his each of his legs again in rapid, single thrusts.  None of them connected, but a glance at his face between blows revealed that he was impressed.

“Interesting,” he mumbled when they paused to catch their breaths.  They stood apart, still facing each other on guard, their weapons just barely touching as they crossed in the middle.  “You adapted my moves and wrought them into something new.  The result is a new fencing art entirely of your own devising.”

Cordelia confirmed his observation with a tilt of her head and increasing the pressure of her blade against his.  “It’s going to be incredibly useful the battles to come,” she said.  She had already made use of this new style, though it was in reverse of what she was doing now; just as she’d employed some of her lance techniques into fencing, so she had incorporated Lon’qu’s swordplay in her lance routines.  But as they hadn’t been paired in combat since the start of this war, he had not had the opportunity to see it firsthand until now.

Lon’qu responded to her silent challenge by smacking her sword away, causing her to stumble.  He used his shoulder to shove her further to the side, but he was holding back so that he wouldn’t hurt her.

Cordelia allowed her body to succumb to gravity, but she curled her torso to roll with the blow, allowing her to return to her feet instantly.  In the space of a breath, she closed the gap, her sword singing with the speed and force of her relentless offensive. 

He parried and blocked, matching her stroke for stroke, but she had the advantage in that she could dodge more easily and get into his space.  Even then, they were fairly evenly matched, his strength and skill countering her speed and flexibility.

The match ended when Cordelia managed to dance under his arm and smack him in the side, hard enough that he recoiled.  Normally such a hit would not affect him at all, but like her, he had opted to leave off his armor while he practiced at this late hour.  She pressed her luck with a swipe to the back of his legs, causing him to lose his footing and balance.  He fell to his knees, and though he’d maintained control of his upper body and kept his weapon raised, he halted all movements when he felt a wooden blade tap the side of his neck.

Neither of them moved; they simply stared at each other, panting and exhausted.

Lon’qu bowed his head in silent congratulations, his eyes never leaving hers.

Cordelia withdrew her sword and extended her hand to help him up.  She noticed as he stood that there was slight twitch in the corner of his eye, and she laughed.  She knew he hated to lose, no matter the circumstance or the opponent.  

As she continued to catch her breath, Lon’qu set aside his sword and retrieved a water skin from somewhere off to the side of the training area.  He took a large gulp and returned to offer her a drink, which she accepted.

“You do know,” she started after she gave the water back, “that I couldn’t have done it without your help.”  She hoped he understood that to mean both her victory and her new fighting style in general.

It was true in both cases, but especially when applied to how strong and skilled she’d become.  She had never lacked the drive the better herself, and perhaps she might have reached the same “destination”, as it were, by other means.  But she knew that it was his patient instruction, keen insight, and tender encouragement that had shaped her the most over the past two years.  No matter what became of them, she wanted him to know that, at the very least.

Lon’qu said nothing for the longest time, but she could tell by his serious expression that he was thinking.  Whatever he was contemplating did not quite reveal what he was feeling, for although the line of his mouth was neutral, his eyes were narrowed with intense consideration, and one of his hands had drifted to rest in his trouser pocket.

Cordelia smiled to try to encourage him to speak his thoughts. He was making her nervous with that penetrating stare and tense countenance.

“Who do you intend to protect with this new skill of yours?” he finally asked.  His tone was casual, the way it might be if he was just inquiring about the weather, but it was offset by the fact that he had settled on a hard glare.

It took her a bit to understand where the query had come from.  It was almost random and felt out-of-place, until she remembered that this was not the first time he had posed that question concerning her fencing abilities.  This time, however, she was able to give an honest answer with no real probing.  “Why, my comrades, of course.   _Everyone_ in this army.”

Lon’qu seemed a little taken back by that, as his grimace softened a fraction.  He must have expected her to say something else, but that did not stop him from contradicting her.  “You lie,” he accused harshly.  “I have watched you in battle.  You have eyes for only one man.”  He removed his hand from the pocket to clench at his side, and his whole form was as dejected as she’d ever seen him.  He sounded almost broken when he said, “You are in love with Chrom.”

Cordelia froze and blushed.  She could not say whether it was because of _what_ he’d said or the _way_ he said it, like one who had utterly surrendered any sense of hope or joy.  She wasn’t surprised that he knew about her former feelings for Chrom, since so many had pointed out how obvious she’d been, but that was in the past now.  She had ceased all activities that might be mistaken for any affection other than those that would exist between a soldier and her captain, and focused them on Lon’qu instead.  So what would make him believe differently?  Was he now harboring the same doubts as she when she discovered the love that had grown between them?

Her flush deepened when the answer came to her.   _‘Oh dear...’_ she thought.  That’s right, she had been observing Chrom lately, in order to clarify her feelings.  If Lon’qu was aware of her unrequited love long before, then it would appear as though nothing had changed.  

Cordelia sighed, knowing that because of her behavior, Lon’qu might not believe her if she tried to explain that much.  Instead, she decided that it was best to own up to it at last.  “I did love him once.  For the longest time...” she whispered.  She could not repress the hint of sadness that colored her tone, but she maintained eye contact and did not wilt in shame.  This wasn’t exactly what she envisioned when she thought about the best way to tell him how she felt, but, as Miriel said, love was unpredictable.

Thankfully, Lon’qu did not miss the careful way she’d worded the admission, and he visibly perked up.  “You speak as if that was in the past,” he mumbled slowly.  He hesitated, but pressed on all the same.  “Has your heart changed?” he wondered.

The organ in question sped up in hearing the hope return to his voice and light up his beautiful eyes.  “Actually, yes.  It has,” she confirmed.  She was tempted to just blurt it out right then and there, but Lon’qu was as much at fault as her for dancing around the truth so long, and she liked playing coy with him sometimes.  He could be rather cute when he was annoyed.  Besides, the romantic in her always dreamed of being pursued so that he would have to be the first to admit it.  “Now you tell me something, Lon’qu,” she demanded.  She took the smallest step towards him, and did not hold back the misgivings from her voice and expression.  “Why do you care about my heart?”

Lon’qu swallowed, and his jaw clenched.  “Er...” was about all he could get out.  He stepped back a few paces, twitching like he might flee at any moment.

Doubt began to creep back in at his reluctance to say or do anything, and it wiped the smile from her face.  What if she was wrong?  What if _everyone_ had been wrong?  Maybe he really did see her only as a friend, albeit a very close one.  Maybe her own indecision or past wrongs had ruined any chance she had with him.  What if.... Maybe....?

Cordelia shook her head and hardened her resolve, unwilling to surrender now that she’d come this far.  She held up her free hand in a placating gesture, while the other gripped the practice sword tighter to prevent it from quivering.  “No, wait.  I’m not finished yet,” she said, praying that he wouldn’t actually run away.  “You’ve given me help...” and she took a slow step towards him, “... and fencing lessons...” another step, “... under the guise of repaying a debt.”  For so long, he had maintained that it was his primary motivation for staying by her side, and she would not have him default to such an old excuse.  “I told you... you owed me _nothing_.”  They had moved well past that point, to the degree that if anything, she owed him for all that he’d done for her.  

She took one more step; she was now close enough the she could reach out and touch him if he would allow it.  She let her hand fall.  “So... what is the _real_ reason?”  She left it unspoken that the “reason” encompassed _everything_ they’d been through together.

Lon’qu took a deep breath, but his expression remained solemn.  He did not move away from her though, which was a good sign.  “That was the reason,” he insisted, a tad waspishly.  When she lifted an eyebrow doubtfully, he confessed, “...At least, in the beginning.”

Cordelia smiled again, bolstered by his words, though it was not quite what she wanted to hear.  She dared to take yet another step closer, even going so far as to sway her hips just a little when she did.  “With time, you also overcame your phobia of me... while performing countless menial chores.”   _‘Among other things...’_ she thought.  “I would know your reason for this, sir.”  She was mildly startled at the huskiness of her voice when she said that.  She blamed it on the close proximity, the heat radiating from his body and the darkness pooling in his eyes.

He seemed torn on what to do.  He did not appear to be thinking of leaving anymore, but he was still conflicted about something.  One of his hands found its way back to his pocket while he struggled to find something to say.  Finally, he huffed and grumbled, “I am not a man who... expresses himself well with words.”  When Cordelia withered a little, he took a deep breath and continued, “Perhaps this gift will tell you what you want to know.”  His fingers clenched the object in his pocket and slowly drew it out.

Her brow creased when he opened his shaking palm to reveal a square of folded silk, which was clearly concealing some other small item.  When he neither unwrapped it nor made any move to give it to her, she muffled a sigh.  “Let me see...” At his nod, she tucked her sword under her arm and reached out to take the cloth, immediately feeling something solid and circular in its folds.  She peeled back the corners of the silk.

Her mouth fell open and her weapon fell to the ground with a thud when her arms went slack.  Her pale cheeks heated several degrees.  “A-ah... a ring!” she mouthed.

In the center of her palm was the most beautiful wedding ring she’d ever seen or even imagined.  It was white gold, with a three carat, heart shaped diamond mounted with four prongs.   _‘Oh... what a nice big stone!’_ she observed, stuck between feeling enamored and humbled by such a large jewel.  Tiny, intricate wings fanned out from both sides of the base of the setting, extending across the top of the shoulders and fanning halfway down the shanks.  The wings were also set with smaller diamonds, arranged in clever patterns to give the illusion of feathers.   _‘So many carats...’_

Cordelia had always possessed an overactive imagination, and her intelligence was only hindered by a tendency to overanalyze.  Neither could have ever conjured this scenario.

She knew that she loved Lon’qu and had already considered the possibility of spending her life with him.  In fact, she was sure that she wanted to.  But considering the slow pace their relationship had taken so far, she had expected that marriage would come a long way down the line, assuming he returned her love.  

Not only did he feel the same way, it had reached the point that he had risked buying an (expensive) ring with which to propose....

At last, it fully registered in both her heart and mind.   _‘He loves me... H-he... he wants to MARRY me...!’_  Her knees almost gave out.  She wanted to scream with joy.

But all that came out was a breathy, “Wow...”  

And then she ruined it when she began to laugh.  

She really couldn’t help it though.  She was just so happy, so overcome with relief, and love, and fear, and a thousand other things she couldn’t begin to name.  She was aware that her reaction was completely absurd, but it was either that or she would start to cry instead.

She only calmed down and glanced back up when she heard Lon’qu start to fidget, his feet shuffling.  His whole body was tense; his face was red, and he wouldn’t look at her.  “Put that loupe away!” he snapped, glancing around.  He crossed his arms and sniffed indignantly.  “If you don’t want the ring, discard it and we will speak no more of this!”

Cordelia stared at him, wondering why on earth he would say such a thing, until it occurred to her that she hadn’t actually given him any sort of indication of what was in her heart.  And she’d been so shocked and taken with the ring, she didn’t realize that she had probably been still and silent for much longer than one would expect if they were going to agree to marriage.  

Laughing in his face didn’t help either.

She refrained from throwing her arms around him, for the moment anyway, and smiled wholeheartedly.  “I don’t want to throw it away, Lon’qu.  I want to WEAR it,” she insisted.

His eyes snapped back to hers in an instant, the lines of his forehead and mouth relaxing.  “You... you do?” he gulped.  “Then...?”  He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Cordelia reached out with her free hand to take his, pleased when he did not resist.  She squeezed his fingers and took the last step to close the space between them.  “Yes, Lon’qu.  I’ve fallen in love with you as well.”  She swayed a little and swung their hands, giddy with joy.  “And I’d be happy to marry you.”

Initially, Lon’qu just gaped at her, studying her face and glancing down at their joined hands.  He bowed his head and closed his eyes, his lips curling wider than she’d ever seen before.  He sighed.  “Even in my wildest dreams, I’d dared not hope you’d say yes,” he admitted, voice barely audible.

Cordelia’s elation sobered somewhat, his words reminding her that she had broken his heart before, and then kept him waiting for far too long.  The realization that he still wanted her, after everything she put him through, brought tears to her eyes.  She leaned forward to hide her face in his chest, thrilled beyond words that he did not flinch.  “Heh.  Yes, and you’re stuck with me now, I fear,” she said firmly, just in case he had any second thoughts.  “But don’t worry.  I think we’re going to be very happy.”

She lifted her head again to see him, and held the ring aloft.  “Will you help me put it on?”

Lon’qu released her other hand and took back the ring with its protective cloth.  He shoved the silk wrapping back into his pocket, and held up up the band, his eyes requesting a final confirmation.

Cordelia extended her left hand and spread her fingers to allow easy access to the correct digit.  She bit her lip and nodded, fighting desperately to tamper down her glee enough to hold still.  

His hands shook, but his smile had become a full grown grin as he placed the ring on her finger and gently pushed it into place.  Both of them were relieved to find that it fit perfectly.  For another long moment, Lon’qu stared at her hand in his, not daring to move.

As much as Cordelia loved her new jewelry, and the soft pressure of their joined hands, the moment was missing something.  She smirked and leaned in close, her ruby eyes half-lidded.  “You do know, Lon’qu, that a moment such as this is usually sealed with a kiss.”

To her surprise, he closed his eyes and sighed again.  “I... I never imagined I would have the opportunity...” he said.  He almost sounded sad and tired, as if he was expecting to wake from a dream.

“Oh, Lon’qu...”  Only now did Cordelia truly regret the love she had wasted on Chrom.  It had caused her so much heartache, but she had never considered the effect it might have on others.  She had pined for so long, perhaps it was only natural that Lon’qu would have doubts about the sincerity of her affections.

She blinked to ease a sudden, salty sting, and released her grip on his fingers.  Then she reached up to take his face in both of her hands, essentially forcing him to look at her.  When she was sure she had his full attention by his fierce blush and widened eyes, she offered a reassuring smile and allowed a few tears to escape and roll down her warm face.  “I love you, Lon’qu,” she told him, her words plain and tone firm.  “And I am going to spend to rest of my life proving it.”  She kept a solid hold on his face, stood on her toes, and pressed her lips to his.

Because of their close proximity, she could feel him freeze and then shiver at this first contact.  She longed for more, but she needed him to feel assured and comfortable enough to take the lead, to fully understand that she wanted this, that she wanted _him_. 

She pulled back almost immediately after, willing herself to be content with one sweet, chaste kiss if that was all he could handle.  But she did not move far; she let go of his face, deliberately trailing her hands down his chest, before wrapping them around his waist in a hug.  She sighed and relaxed against him, resting her head under his chin.

Lon’qu exhaled.  At length, he set his own hands on her shoulders and pushed gently, just enough so that he could see her face.  “Cordelia...”

“Yes, Lon’qu?”  She smiled and held still as one of his hands left her shoulder.

Very slowly, almost agonizingly so, he threaded his fingers through her hair, starting at the top of her forehead, and then sweeping some of her stray strands behind her ear.  He held his breath as he caressed her cheek, the very tips of his fingertips dancing across her skin, tracing her jaw, and finally coming to rest on the back of her neck.  A gentle pressure there nudged her forward, and her eyes fluttered closed when he leaned in.

A few more seconds of hesitation felt like an eternity, but Cordelia’s patience was aptly rewarded with the light brush of his lips.  At first, it was sweet and shy, as tentative as a butterfly landing on a flower.  Even so, she noticed a heightened awareness spreading across her skin, a comfortable warmth in her chest and bubbly tingles in her fingertips and toes.

She sighed against his lips and responded by tilting her head just so, slanting her mouth against his to connect a little more firmly, but still allowing him to lead.  Her hands came back up to settle around his neck, and the one that was not at hers trailed down and wrapped around her waist, drawing her ever closer.

Late at night, when sleep was allusive and her mind was too full to rest, Cordelia had sometimes wondered what kissing Lon’qu would be like.  Would he kiss like he fought, passionate and fierce but fully in control?  Or perhaps it would echo the focus he employed while completing chores, such as peeling potatoes or sharpening weapons, relaxed but precise?  Or would it mirror his conversations with women (excluding her), fearful and tense and utterly unrefined?  

In a way, it was all of those at once, but also none of them at all.  He was holding her so tenderly; she could move freely in his arms, or even away from him if she wished.  His hands wandered at times to explore the arch of her spine or the line of her hips, but there was also a pressure and an energy in his fingertips, a welcome possessiveness that told her he would not let go willingly.  

His lips were a bit chapped, but they softened with each press against hers, and she was sure that they would eventually bruise, as every fluttering kiss grew bolder and lingered a little longer.  He was in no hurry; he’d set a pace that was deliberate and languid, and she understood from each touch of his lips and hands that he truly loved and treasured her.   

That knowledge, more than a lack of air, is what caused her to finally break the kiss, but she did not retreat far.  They kept their foreheads pressed together, noses bumping while they panted.  Cordelia slid one hand down to his chest, resting her palm over his rapidly beating heart.  The other stayed on his neck, tangled in the dark, damp strands.  She was crying, and she cursed herself for it, even though it was because of the sheer joy and awe of knowing how much he loved her.

“Cordelia?  Is something wrong?” Lon’qu asked, seeing her tears and fearing her silence.  He pulled back.

She shook her head vehemently and tightened her hold on him.  “No.  Nothing’s wrong.”  She giggled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, just because she could.  “Nothing at all.”

He smiled and kissed her once more, but this time he was much more daring.  It was still lazy and sweet, but there was teeth and tongue coaxing soft moans from her throat.  He pulled her ever closer, gripping her tighter, and his hands left her hot and aching.  She kissed him back with as much fervor, swallowing his growls and enticing his mouth open.  

Lon’qu abruptly pulled away, and she whined a little at the loss.  She tilted her head and frowned when he didn’t look at her.  “What is it?”

He was glaring over her head into the distance.  She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing.

Lon’qu groaned and closed his eyes, shaking his head.  All of a sudden, a smirk replaced the thoughtful mein, and he met her gaze again.  “Cordelia... t-there’s something I need to do.”  Then his brow creased with a frown, and he blushed.  “But understand... this is a one time thing.  I will not do this in public again.”

Cordelia opened her mouth to ask what on earth he was talking about, but she didn’t get a single word out.

In one swift motion, Lon’qu lunged at her with such force that she lost her balance, arms flailing, but he didn’t let her fall.  He kept one strong arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders, fully supporting her body as he bent her back and kissed her yet again... hard.

She didn’t have time to protest, could hardly do anything as he devoured her, eager and determined and oh, so delicious.  The best she could do was dig her nails into his shoulders and go along for the ride.

Her whole body was on fire when he straightened and helped her stand back up, though she had to hang on to his arms lest her knees give way.  Her face was burning, as was his.  

“Lon’qu?  W-what was...”

“HA!  Did you see that?  I told you!  I TOLD you!  Pay up, Gaius!”

“Dammit, Blade!  Do you know how much candy you just cost me, you bastard?!”

Cordelia groaned and covered her face.  Considering their history, she probably should have expected something like this.  She’d been too happy and caught in the moment to notice that at some point, they’d gained an audience.  She tried to tune out the ensuing argument taking place in the nearby brush somewhere, and wondered if it was truly possible to spontaneously combust from embarrassment.  Judging by the look on Lon’qu’s face, he might be wondering the same thing.

Their eyes met, and they both smiled.  Then they started to laugh, Cordelia more so, but even her stoic husband-to-be couldn’t suppress his amusement at the complete insanity of the situation, past and present.

But then again, what was love, if not a little insane at least?  Their long and winding path was proof enough of that. 

Once their laughter had died down, Cordelia held out her hand, grinning and her heart full to bursting when Lon’qu entwined their fingers.  She nodded towards the camp and eagerly pulled him along.  

They needed to find Libra.


	24. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve finally reached the end! There isn’t much going on in this, just a little wrap-up more or less. Please read the final notes for acknowledgements and upcoming work.
> 
> Warning: Shameless family fluff and love.

**Epilogue**

Cordelia bit her lip, concentrating on the task at hand.  She needed to be precise in every single minute motion of her hand, so she allowed no outside distractions to sway her, lest the entire project come to ruin.  She did not want to consider the consequences of failure.

She wiped the back of her hand across her brow and took a deep breath.  Then she leaned in over the table, her tongue stuck out between her teeth, and very carefully squeezed the frosting pipette.  With a few circular flicks of her wrist, she drew tiny, intricate flowers in chocolate around the edges of a delectable slice of turtle cheesecake.  Each petal was painstakingly crafted to loving perfection.  Nothing less would do for her child.

It took several, tense moments, but when the last blossom took shape, she heaved a sigh and straightened with a smile.  She set her pipette down.  Baking wasn’t a luxury that she was often afforded, but she took great pleasure from the work when it was available, especially when she could take her time with special treats for her loved ones.  Lon’qu didn’t care for sugary confections in general, but Severa certainly did.  It was a trait she’d inherited from Cordelia, and she was grateful for any common ground she could find with her stubbornly guarded daughter.

“There you are,” came a voice from somewhere behind her.  Her whole body jerked; she’d been so absorbed in her work that she hadn’t noticed anyone entering the meal prep tent, but she relaxed immediately when she realized that it was Lon’qu.  “What have you been up to?” he asked.

Cordelia stepped back and proudly waved a hand over her edible masterpiece.  “It’s for Severa,” she said.  “We’ve been getting to know one another over dessert.”  She frowned at her husband’s critical gaze.  “Is it alright?  Do you think she’ll like it?”

Lon’qu scrutinized the overly-decorated slice of cake.  “I think... something’s not quite right,” he muttered.  He glanced at the various ingredients and utensils spread across the table and picked up her frosting pipette.  

“What are you doing?” Cordelia wondered.  She knew that her husband was a decent enough cook, but he’d never shown any interest in baking, and he certainly never bothered to make his confections look presentable in any fashion.

Lon’qu adjusted the plate so that it was closer to him, and then took the pipette in both hands.  With no discrimination whatsoever, he squeezed the tubing and emptied it all over the cake, completely obliterating Cordelia’s hard work.

“L-Lon’qu!”  She shoved him aside and tried to determine if anything was salvageable.  “Oh gods... it’s ruined!” she concluded, completely wilting for a moment.  She rounded on him.  “Why did you do that?!” she shouted.

Lon’qu winced at her high-pitched tone, but then gave her that little half smile of his.  “It’s not ruined; it’s just not perfect anymore.  Trust me,” he said.  He picked up the plate of cheesecake, found a fork to take with it, and took her hand, pulling her along.

Cordelia was rather distraught that the past few hours of painstaking labor had come to naught, so she didn’t have the energy to resist or wonder where she was being led.  When she did pull herself out of thoughts of self-pity, and the ways in which she might murder her husband without getting caught, she found that they had moved from the prep tent to the mess.  

Most of the Shepherds had already eaten their meals and moved on, but a few remained, conversing with one another over dessert or indulging in quiet solitude.  In the far corner of the room was one such individual of the latter category, her back turned towards the entrance so that she could ignore everyone as she wished.  She was curled over something presumably held in her lap, and her dinner plate had been set off to the side.  Strands of her long, dark brown pigtails migrated over her shoulder occasionally, and she flicked them away from her face at regular intervals.

As soon as he saw the young girl, Lon’qu made a beeline for her with Cordelia still in tow.  “Severa...”

The young Mercenary perked up at the sound of her name, and a smile lit up her face when she saw who addressed her.  “Hey, Daddy!”  Her expression hardened into a familiar scowl as soon as she noticed Cordelia.  “Mother.”

Cordelia quelled the frustration and disappointment from her face and voice.  “Hello, dear,” she said with a smile.

Lon’qu held out the plate of cheesecake.  “Your mother made this for you,” he said gruffly without preamble.  

Severa leaned forward to peer at the confection.  “She did?”  She sniffed it and her brows came together.  “Why does it look so weird?”

“She had a little trouble with the frosting,” Lon’qu answered, shamelessly laying blame on his wife for its messy state.

A wicked grin crossed Severa’s lips.  “Really?  Little Miss Perfect couldn’t frost a simple piece of cake?”

Cordelia was about to reveal the truth, but Lon’qu tightened his grip on her hand.  She saw him shake his head out of the corner of her eye and sighed.  “Yes, well... it might not look pretty, but I’m sure it still tastes fine.”  Her smile was more genuine when she continued, “I still get my ‘Severa Time’ though, right?”

Her daughter made a show of rolling her eyes and repeating her mother’s overdramatic sigh, but her pale cheeks dusted pink and the steel glare softened.  “I suppose.”  She accepted the offered confection and set it on top of the other object in her lap.

Cordelia recognized the opening and took full advantage, sitting down across from her daughter to face her.  Lon’qu hesitated, but he too eased himself to the ground next to her.  She waited for Severa to take a few bites of her dessert, then asked, “What are you reading?”  She nodded at the open tome in her lap.

Severa swallowed and moved aside her plate, revealing a pink leather bound volume with a name inked in sprawling flowery calligraphy.  She waved it around in disgust.  “I found this book Make Him Fall For You in a Fortnight.  Honestly, who reads this stuff?”

Cordelia’s smile froze.  Beside her, Lon’qu coughed to hide an embarrassed laugh.  She had told him about the book before their wedding, as she’d wanted to establish a continued foundation of trust and honesty in their marriage.  But she had not seen it since Miriel had taken it from her, though she had been assured that it would not be used in any further “experiments”.  How Severa had gotten hold of it was beyond her.

“W-well... actually... that was mine,” she admitted, her own skin flushed crimson.

Severa’s next bite stopped midair on the way to her mouth, and she gaped.  “What?  Really?”  She set her fork down and laughed.  “AH HA HA HA!  I can’t believe it!  You really read this dribble?  Better yet, did you do what it said!  Gawds!  Are you daft?”

Cordelia glanced away, and blinked back the familiar sting of shameful tears.  She had come to accept her mistakes, considering the time and energy that was wasted because of that book, but it hurt that her daughter took such glee from her failings. Nonetheless, she concealed it and forced a laugh.  “I suppose it was rather silly of me.”

Lon’qu reached over and squeezed Cordelia’s hand.  “Perhaps, but you are hardly the first person to do questionable things for the sake of love.  It is not a laughing matter,” he said, glaring at Severa.

Severa bowed her head.  “Sorry, Daddy,” she mumbled.

Cordelia flashed her husband a smile, but shook her head after some thought.  “Actually, she’s right.  It was rather ridiculous of me to follow such inane advice, and for all the wrong reasons besides.  And yet... in hindsight, I do not regret it anymore, for in a way, its counsel was successful.  After all, it brought us together... did it not?”  She adjusted her hand so that she could interlace her fingers with Lon’qu’s.

He cleared his throat and looked away, but he could not fully hide the small grin he was fighting.

“Did it really?” Severa asked.  She glanced back and forth between her parents and the book.  “You mean you both fell for this?”  When Lon’qu scowled at her again, she mumbled, “Er... what I mean is... Oh never mind!”  She dropped it unceremoniously on the ground and resumed eating her dessert.

Cordelia giggled and let go of Lon’qu to pick up the book.  She traced the lettering on the cover with a finger.  “You know, I really am glad I read this.  I’ve been able to learn and grow from all of the mistakes I’ve made in trying to follow its guidelines.  It also helped me realize that real love means being yourself, and having someone amazing that you don’t have to be perfect around.”

Lon’qu blanched and crossed his arms.  “Don’t say... n-not in so loud a voice,” he growled.

Cordelia smirked and scooted a little closer.  She knew that he was not comfortable with public displays or declarations of affection, excluding the one instance in which he’d kissed her to show up Gaius, their wedding ceremony, and the occasional hand holding.  She didn’t mind, and didn’t often push his limits, but sometimes it was fun to embarrass him.  “No?  What if I were to say that you only captivate me more as time goes on?”  

His face was burning now, and she had to stifle yet another laugh when he said, “I... what?  Nngh... Flattery will get you nowhere!”  Despite his claim, his eyes darkened with a look she recognized, and she shivered.

“This is sickening!  Must you two act like love-sick newlyweds all the time?”  Severa gagged, but the corners of her eyes and lips crinkled as she tried to suppress her happiness in the same way Lon’qu often did.

Cordelia turned back to their daughter.  “Sorry, dear.  But you must understand... we only just married a little over a month ago, so we ARE newlyweds,” she pointed out, a touch defensively.  

“Oh.  I... I didn’t know that,” Severa admitted.  Her gaze fell lower and darted off to the side.  “I guess it must have been a shock to find me then.”

“Well, I’ll admit that we hadn’t gotten around to talking about having children yet, but neither of us regret meeting you,” Cordelia assured her.  “We’re so proud of the brave, beautiful young woman you’ve become.”

“You are our treasure,” Lon’qu added quietly.  “We’re lucky to have you.”

“Okay, enough!  Gawds!”  Severa snapped, her face and neck hot.  She shoveled the rest of her cheesecake in her mouth as another means to hide her pleasure.

Cordelia winked at Lon’qu.  “She clearly takes after you,” she whispered.

“Hmph.”  He rolled his eyes, but there was pride sparkling in his whole form while he watched their daughter.

Severa swallowed her last bite and chewed slowly, relaxing into a more thoughtful mein.  “You know, I don’t have a lot of memories of the two of you together, and you never really told me much about how you met or anything.” she murmured.  “With the war and everything, neither of you were around much.  And then...”  Her thumb played with the ring on her finger, Cordelia’s ring.

Cordelia and Lon’qu shared a look.  Severa rarely offered information about her former life, or the parents she had known, so neither knew just what to say in response.  Fortunately, she continued by circling back to the topic that started the conversation.

“Did you really fall in love because of this?”  She gestured to Make Him Fall For You in a Fortnight.

“In a way,” Cordelia replied.

Severa narrowed her brows.  “Did it really happen in a fortnight?”

Both of them answered at the same time, though Cordelia said “No” while Lon’qu shrugged with a “Yes”.  They looked at each other again and chuckled.  

When Severa’s confusion became more evident by her glare, Cordelia elaborated, “Well... you could say that it was more like two years and a fortnight.”

Neither said anything more until their daughter fidgeted and asked in a voice that made her sound surprisingly young and shy, “Will you... will you tell me about it?”  Then she scowled at Cordelia’s amused expression and collected herself.  She schooled her features into her usual haughty snarl.  “N-Not that I care or anything... I just don’t get how you both could be so lame.”

Cordelia was not fooled by the abrupt change in the slightest, but deemed it wiser not to remark on it.  She settled herself a little more comfortably and began, “It all started near the beginning of the Plegian War.  Lon’qu had just recently joined the Shepherds, at Khan Basilio’s request, and later, Captain Phila ordered me to stay with them as well.  One day, Robin invited me and a few others to go to a bookstore with them...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if the ending was a bit cheesy, but I can’t help it, and it did come out exactly how I planned it. I’m such a sucker for hopeless lines and scenarios. Well, there you have it! It’s been a long ride, but I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr if you like (see my profile page for links), and I will post various updates there on my progress or when new stories are about to come out.
> 
> Special thanks to BlueStorm-Studio (a.k.a. Stormy Raindrops) for creating various art pieces for this story as well as my profile avatar! Please take the time to visit her sites and support this wonderful artist! (See my profile page for url)
> 
> And thank you everyone who left comments, reviews, kudos, excited screams, and other stuff! I write because I love it and I really do it for myself, but I’m so blessed to have such support from readers, and your input often helped shaped the story, as well as examine my style and grammar so that I can improve. If I’m able to, I will message everyone individually from here on, but know that I have read and appreciate every single review!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos appreciated!


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